Dark Convergence
by millythompson
Summary: Trigun, mixed manga/anime based alternate reality on the adventures of Dark Vash. Thrills, chills, but mostly action, romance, comedy... Written by DwellinJ and MillyT
1. Prologue The Lost

**Dark Convergence**

**A Dark Vash Story**

**By MillyT & Dwellin**

Welcome to Milly Thompson's (aka Ricki) and Dwellin's (aka Sunsilver) brand new AU! Yay!

_Okay, everyone knows what an AU is, right? If you don't like them, ya don't have to read this – but "we'd like it if you did…" If you don't like Dark Vash (a non-anime, non-manga version Vash – originated from a toy but well, _could_ be part of the manga in the future I suppose – MillyT) Well, just what hole have you been living in? Dark Vash is cool! But don't come running after us with a cross punisher or other sharp pointy object if you don't like Vash this way, we'd love you to read it, but not at the sake of your own sanity… Hmmm… insanity good!_

_This is our humble take on how Dark Vash came into being. More heavily manga-based, but also pulls from the anime. Test your knowledge, amaze your friends, impress your relatives, thrills, chills, romance, action-packed action, … and okay, that's a lot of BS, but hey, it's a good read, even if I do say so myself. _

_MillyT pokes Dwellin, "Get to the point!" _

_Dwellin: "There's a point?" MillyT, unsnaps her stungun. _

_Dwellin hurriedly says: "Okay folks, take your seats please, lights, curtain…. deep sonorous voice of narrator… hmmmm, maybe Leonard Nimoy, I always did like his voice… (Oh oh or Jeff! Sweet! - MillyT)_

_There's a metallic click..._

_Dwellin quickly nods to narrator "Take it away Mr. Nimoy…"_

"_The story starts in the rubble of July and… ah heck, I'm not getting paid enough for this!" Jeff walks off stage and MillyT starts to cry…_

"_Hang it all! That's the third voice actor this week!"_

_Milly T swings loaded stung gun in Dwellin's direction, "Dang blast-it he sounded like Wolfwood… If I'd known we'd lose him I'd have gotten Johnny Bosch to do it this weekend for us!"_

"_So folks, if you are interested, scroll down and start reading!"_

"_Oh and uh, we don't even pretend to own Trigun… or **sob** Vash or anyone even remotely connected to Trigun, (this is killing me!) the brainchild of one Nightow-sama… I can't take this… roll the film someone!" Sniffling, Dwellin uses MillyT's cap to wipe her eyes._

* * *

**Prologue****The Lost**

**Stardate: 07-21-0104-6:00**

The twin suns rose slowly that morning, cutting through the hazy fog. The little moisture that still swam in the air collected around the ruins of the city, the steal girders, broken bits of cement, wooden window sills, and sat heavy on a single body that lay half naked on the ground. The figure shifted, one leg pinned underneath what was left of the building he had stood in six hours before. Blood dyed the remaining fabric that covered his lower extremities black, his chest was coated in reddish brown stains, but the scars on his flesh no longer bled. Bruises still darkened his shoulders and the small of his belly; they were purple and yellow testimonies on his face to something striking him a few hours past.

He moaned, moving to push the heavy beam off his leg, flexing his toes and opening his eyes to look around him. _Where am I?_ He thought to himself, not quite sure if his voice would work, unwilling to give it a try. The silence was a vacuum.

With a shiver, the morning mist cool on his bare skin, he wrapped his arms around himself as he look around for something to cover up with. The suns would no doubt be hot today; the air was already steadily growing warmer. It would be best if he could find something not only to take the chill off, but also to protect from the damaging solar rays. There had to be something. He had to find some article of clothing, a tarp, anything…

Then he heard a familiar sound, something flapping slowly off to his right and a little behind him. Turning, he crawled, gaining his feet shakily, and managed to walk over to where a shredded red cloth hung from what was left of a busted windowpane. Grabbing it in his right hand, he shook it out, recognizing it as a coat… An unusually familiar coat… _Someone that looked like me - or maybe it was me - wore this once. I know it…_

Wrapping what was left of the red coat over his shoulders, he found the sleeves still intact, pushed his hands through them, and except for the long tear up the back, it covered what he needed. The fabric was smooth to the touch, like water, it blocked both the warmth of the sun and the cool of the morning air. He wondered idly where it had come from, who had made it, and other puzzles to keep from thinking too deeply about the shattered remains that surrounded him.

_But…Where am I?_ Frowning, he tried to remember, looking down at his hands, grimy and soot covered. Was there an explosion? Were there others around somewhere as well? His eyes scanned the desolate grounds, finding no other movement but for shadows that circled lazily on the ground, cast by lizard-tailed vultures that eyed him disappointedly.

Shifting the debris with a bare toe, the man stood for a long time, arms wrapped over his chest, trying to recall why he was there. Nothing came to him, and the deeper he thought, the more the realization struck him that he could not even remember his own name. "Who am I?" His voice worked apparently, but it was strange to him. His words hung in the silent air and dissipated like the mist.

A vulture flapped down nearby, cocked its ugly naked head at him, and gave a grumpy sound as if to say, 'You're not dead!' And then it flapped away again, the group flying toward the rising suns on a hunt for new rotting meat.

The man felt alone, although he couldn't remember if he'd been alone like this before his memory loss or not. He started to follow after the vultures, hoping that if they knew where something lived or at least had died; then perhaps maybe he would find others like him. Maybe there was a town or a village, someone nearby who could explain why he was there, what had happened… Someone who knew him when he didn't know himself.

It was slow going, this trip away from ground zero. His bare feet found every sharp object and shard of glass until they were hurting and then bleeding as he walked through a field of nails, and other things that didn't bear mentioning. He tried for a time to watch where he put his feet, but found it too excruciatingly slow… After a time he stopped looking down, allowing his feet to go where they would, ignoring them, eager to go faster, away from the damaged dolls and broken plates. Eventually the pain ceased to bother him and he considered that his brain was shutting off the pain synapses in his feet.

His progress suddenly halted as his foot came down on a large glass shard. He screamed in agony, falling to the ground, to stare in horror at the slice of mirror that penetrated the arch of his foot and out through the top. Tears in his eyes, he managed to pull it from the soft flesh where blood oozed and ran down onto the dirty ground. He made to toss it away angrily, the blood trickling down its shiny side, but then he stopped, the pain was already waning in his foot, which he ignored as his attention lay solely on the mirror.

_Who am I?_ He caught his reflection in the glass.

Even darkened with dirt, his cream colored skin seemed to glow, his aqua eyes uneven, one side of his face was swollen and bruised from a fall perhaps, pushing his eye into a squint. His white golden hair lay against his head, some of it still sticking up, as if from styling. He put his fingers to it; the strands were hard, most likely from a gel or hairspray. He put his fingers to his face tentatively, looking at the one birthmark below his eye… _I remember this…_ The blood dried on the mirror as he studied his reflection, trying to remember who he was, what people called him as they looked at his face, but all were faded shadows. When he finally put the shard back on the ground, his eyes carried over to his foot.

It didn't hurt anymore! Lifting it, putting weight on it, pressing his fingers to it, he discovered it not only ceased to hurt, but did not look wounded at all, but for the blood drying on the surface! His eyes went wide… "I'm not human… Am I?" He swallowed, looking around again. "What if I did this… What if I caused this?" His heart started to hurt and he continued to walk again. _I don't want to be here any longer…_

* * *

In the distance, another man, this one hunkered down under what was left of an old tarp, watched the poor lost man picking his way through the wreckage. He frowned. His aqua eyes were clear as he watched the man, a mirror image of himself, even from hundreds of yards away, there was no doubt, his brother was still alive. The events of mere hours before had not destroyed them even though it had rid the planet of countless others. But they were trifles whereas these men were not.

Wrapping the tarp around him tightly, he stepped up onto a rocky outcropping, his eyes glancing up at a vulture that circled around one last time _just_ in case… He _hated_ this place, it was an eyesore and a distraction, and he wanted out of it nearly as much as his brother seemed to. He also hated these loathsome vultures… A large black gun lifted from beneath the tarp, and the gunshot echoed through Lost July. The vulture fell to the ground at his feet, bleeding. _Good, it still works,_ he thought appreciatively of the gun.

Hard eyes lifted back to look at the man wearing the red coat, he was running now, stumbling, but making ground, scared by the gunfire. The other smiled coldly to himself. _He's scared is he? Good, he _should_ be. I'm going to come after you very soon…I have a debt to settle with you!_

His stomach growled, and he grimaced, staring down at the dead vulture. With a frown, he went to retrieve it from the ground. It would probably taste like chicken, he told himself.


	2. CH 1 The Legend Begins

_Howdy everyone! MillyT and Dwellin here! We're hoping this works... For some reason ff is giving us trouble posting this story so our apologies for any strange formats you may stumble across..._

"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

* * *

Chapter 1 

**The Legend Begins**

**One Week Later**

**Stardate: 07-28-0104-7:00**

The nearest town to the wreckage of what was once July City existed about fifteen iles east, toward the rising suns. People from the city who could no longer stand the daily hustle and bustle of business life, and preferred the slower pace of country folk settled there. However much they abhorred the big city, they had come to depend on it, their only power supply came from the two lonely plants that had been thrown off from the July City ship over a hundred years ago. Most of the city's supplies came from July, and they were the first ones to feel the affects of a city that just _wasn't there_ anymore.

Clive and his sister Wendy were the first ones to spot the red-coated figure as he walked out from the remains of Lost July. He looked a right mess, his left eye was black, and clothes in shredded tatters. Clive found himself hoping Wendy didn't find the guy attractive in her usual vein of trying to find a husband. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. There was something that just wasn't right about this situation, nothing about this solitary man rang an appealing note to him. It was strange that he should be the only person to have survived within the debris of a city that once was home to over a million people.

Begrudgingly he stopped for the man, who looked at them with the strangest eyes he'd ever seen. Clive stared for a moment. Those eyes, they were like the aqua color in his littlest sister's crayon box, nothing he'd seen on a human being before. Startling him from his ruminations and bringing his mind back to the matter at hand was the collapse of the stranger a moment later. He was committed now; he knew Wendy's sympathetic nature. She had him haul the man to the back of the truck to take him with them to the farmstead. They were home within the hour toting their unusual cargo.

The news of July City's demise spread through Little America, and then over the satellite like wildfire. Within a week, all of Gunsmoke not only knew something had happened to the city, but that there were also no survivors. Except for one man, this one inscrutable man they were now nursing back to health on a cot in Clive's room. The siblings kept him a secret as long as they could, knowing if the population found out about him, strangers would overrun their house. They told the local doctor, and he came only after dark to see the odd fellow.

The stranger remained unconscious for a week and showed no signs of stirring. They weren't sure why he fell asleep, or why he stayed that way, because as far as the town's physician could tell, he didn't have anything wrong with him. Yet, he slept on, but on occasions, in rough times, he started to mumble names of people, and shout things about the Big Fall, and other things that no one his age should rightly know.

It scared Wendy, so by the end of the third day she refused to have anything to do with him. Clive had decided if the sleeping man did not awake by the evening of the eighth day, he would turn him over to the sheriff…

Then on the seventh morning he woke up suddenly and sat up straight in bed blinking foggily at his surroundings at first before fixing those unusually colored eyes on Clive, as he was getting ready for work. The pale haired stranger simply stared at Clive a long time before asking, "Who are you?"

"I should ask you the same thing," Clive replied, his suspenders dropping from his shoulders just as he had been clipping them to his pants. He stared at his houseguest. After a silent moment, he finally offered his name, and then asked, "Do you remember what happened?"

"No," the blond man replied after pausing a moment in thought. "I don't recall." He set on the bed, his intense gaze on the man before him, now finishing clipping his suspenders over his shoulders again and adjusting his shirt. The man's mind was reeling, this was… This was the man in the truck, the one he saw outside the rubble… Why couldn't he remember what happened afterwards? What was his name? Where was he? His eyes glazed over in thought.

Clive sighed, "Amnesia eh? I've heard of it before, one of my siblings had it once. Couldn't remember anything. Well, you were in July City, or what is _left_ of July, when Wendy and I found you, that ring any bells?" He sat down on the bed across from the stranger and watched him swing his legs over the side of the cot.

The stranger frowned, "I remember the city… Your truck, you and another…"

"My sister, Wendy," Clive coaxed. "Anything more?"

Another minute passed as he thought about what happened before Clive found him. He remembered the pain of walking through the debris in bare feet, the mirror shard… His eyes widened in the memory and he swallowed around a thick, dry tongue. "No, nothing more," he lied.

"Well, you've been unconscious for a week. Doc said there wasn't anything wrong with you, but you kept saying stuff in your sleep. You keep repeating the name Vash."

His piercing gaze returned as he stared Clive down until he felt the stranger was almost looking into his very being. Eyes like that… Clive knew no human could do that and there was something intrinsically wrong about this man, and the more he observed the odd man the more he wished he could be rid of him. "Vash… That's my name, I think… Or someone's, it's... familiar."

"But you don't know?" Clive received a headshake to the negative, and bit his lip, "You mentioned Count Revenant Vasquez as well, the Big Fall, something about Plants…"

"I don't…" The stranger said, hesitated, not sure why the names were calling up warring emotions, especially remembering how quickly he healed from his wounds… "Those aren't as familiar, but Vash, it must be my name." He nodded slowly, "And you are Clive, right? You saved me? I owe you my life I think." His eyes were distant as he recalled the sight of that blasted rubble and wreckage that surrounded him upon his awakening. There's no way he could have survived that… But he _had_, hadn't he?

"I didn't save you, but I did bring you back to my home." Clive glanced at the clock. He was supposed to be at work in a little while, but he didn't want to leave Vash alone with his sister until he knew he wasn't dangerous. "I think maybe we should take you to see the Doc now that you're awake. Can you walk?"

Vash nodded, getting to his feet, staggering a moment, but steady the next. He looked down at his clothing, a flannel shirt and jeans that were Clive's but just happened to fit him. "I seem to remember I had a coat… A red one… Is that right?"

"Yes," Clive said, he walked over to a closet in the corner of the room and fished it out for him. "Strangest material I've ever seen, what is it, some polyester blend or something? Wendy tried mending it and when the stitches just disappeared, she was dumbfounded."

He handed it over, frowning. Yet another reason why Wendy suddenly lost interest, the fabric almost mended itself, flowed together like water she said. She freaked out about half way through and Clive found himself testing it from time to time, almost afraid he was hallucinating, until sure enough, the holes vanished almost miraculously when he finished sewing it all up one evening and it looked brand new. After that he put it away and refused to touch it. He wasn't sure if the fabric was alive or not but once he had that notion in his head he couldn't get it out and decided it was just better to not even look at it any more.

Grabbing the coat from Clive, Vash pulled it over his shoulders and nodded at the fit, although it seemed a bit narrow through the shoulders as if it weren't meant for him, but then again, perhaps it was because of the mending.

The man didn't have anything else to say; that silent brooding look had returned to his face. Clive said a quick goodbye to his sister who gave him a look that revealed she would be pleased if he returned home alone that evening. The stranger followed Clive from their small house, down the road to the Doc's office. People eyed him curiously. There had been rumors spreading through the town no matter how hush-hush Clive kept to himself, he knew Wendy had been spreading stories at the beauty parlor. Now that the stranger was awake, everyone would know the rumors were true. There wasn't much time before the more _vocal_ members of the town would come looking for this mysterious stranger.

They went up the steps of the Doc's office and entered waiting room. A few people sat around on small wooden benches and chairs, coughing and holding various wounded appendages, waiting for the doctor to see them. Vash sat down on a bench next to a little girl who was coughing. She wore pigtails and a little yellow dress, glancing at him as he sat down with big brown eyes, and scootched closer to her mother. Clive walked over to the nurse at the desk, said a few words to her. The nurse eyed Vash and disappeared into the back through a door behind the reception area.

Clive returned and glanced at his watch. "I've got to get to work." He gritted his teeth, thinking about how angry his father would be if he heard the next bit, "Think you can find your way back to the house when you're done?" Wendy would have to fend for herself; she was a strong girl as were all the women in their family he thought staunchly.

Vash nodded and with one last look Clive left for his job down the street. The little girl in the pigtails broke into tears. Vash frowned. "Um, Mr. Vash?" The nurse waved at the blond-headed stranger who stood and went over to her. She beckoned him to follow her through the reception area and they went into the back office where the doctor sat behind his desk. "Please, have a seat," the nurse motioned and he took the nearest chair. Once seated, the nurse exited and closed the door behind her.

The physician leaned over, "So, you're awake I see. Do you remember what happened?"

"No," Vash replied. "I barely remember my own name… I'm not even sure if it is my name, but it sounds familiar." He sighed, running a hand through his short hair. It lay completely flat now, dust and grease mingling from going too long without a shower.

The doctor examined him intently across from the desk. "People are starting to whisper that you destroyed July City."

Vash frowned, "What?"

The doctor folded his hands in front of him and took a long breath through his nose and let it out the same way. "I know this is a lot for you to take in, but you were the only survivor. There isn't a trace of another human being in that entire city, and believe me, they've searched this last week. They had scent hounds and tracker toma out twenty-four hours since the city disappeared. No one but you came out of that mess. Can you care to explain that?"

Vash wondered if perhaps it _had_ been him. He wasn't human, he already figured that much out. But he couldn't tell this doctor. If people thought he was to blame then he'd be hunted for sure. His stomach turned sour with the thought. He _had_ to figure out what happened, there was no denying it. But no one here could help him. Vash was fairly sure of that.

"I just, I'm just a victim in all of this," he said after a moment. "I can't remember what happened. I just woke up under a pile of rubble; stumbled out of it, saw the car, and I can't remember anything until I woke up a half hour ago. I'm sorry that a city was destroyed, but how could I do something like that? Look at me… Do I look like someone who could take out an entire city?" Vash lifted his hands in front of him and Doc shook his head.

"No, you don't. It's the darndest thing, what rumors people spread though. Only one man escapes miraculously unharmed, you gotta admit, it makes you wonder."

Vash lowered his head, "I see. Perhaps it might be best if I leave this town before the rumors become dangerous?"

"Might be for the best. There's a bus that's leaving in the morning up to Cankatee." The doctor's eyes were furrowed with worry, "You're a scary fellow Mr. Vash… There's this look in your eyes even while you're sitting there… Says to me you're hiding something."

"I'm not!" The blond man replied, standing. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Thank you for your time." He turned and left the office without another word. The little girl in the waiting room started crying again the moment she saw him, and he dashed into the quiet street and turned in the opposite direction of Clive's house, straight out of town. But as he passed by the little shops, he caught his reflection in a window, and he stopped to look at himself. His fingers touched parts of his face as if to confirm that the reflection was, in truth, really him. The likeness did the same thing so it had to be him. He dropped his hand to his side and continued to stare at the grungy man in the glass.

"Vash? Is that me? Is that what you're called?" Numbly, he walked up to the window and placed his fingers lightly on the glass. The name didn't fit his face. It wasn't right… He wasn't sure why, but Vash wasn't the name he was given. He knew that, but he couldn't put the right name to the man staring back at him with eyes that were haunted and hollow. He could understand why the small child started crying when he walked in and why the doctor thought he was scary…

He allowed himself a moment to absorb the rest of his reflection, keeping his eyes off of his face. He looked down at the shirt he wore, and unbuttoned it slightly, looking to see that his bruises were now gone. There were still scars along his muscled chest and belly. Some of them were still pink and new. He re-buttoned his shirt and pulled the coat around him. It barely snapped, a tight fit even as his stomach grumbled from not eating for, what, a week? Clive said he had been out that long, correct? Vash sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. Then he frowned.

There was something inside the pocket… Vash lifted the item out to gaze at it. A single silver bullet. He shuddered… Did he have a gun somewhere? He felt around the coat but came up empty-handed. Had Clive and his sister found it? Strange they should leave it in his pocket… Only that single bullet remained from a past he no longer remembered. Vash slid it back inside his coat.

Somehow, although it was familiar, none of it jarred the memories loose. He clutched the sides of his head with his hands, bending over in thought. He was lost, no, something else was lost and it wasn't just his memory. Some element of himself was missing and he was clueless as to what it was and how he had lost it. And at that moment, anything familiar was worth holding onto. Perhaps the familiarity would turn into remembrance, and eventually perhaps the pieces would fall into place. He _wanted_ the name to fit him, the coat to remind him of something that happened, but at the same time, if he were _truly_ the one to blame for this July City's demise, then perhaps he didn't _want_ to remember. Perhaps he could remake himself into someone else.

"There he is! Hey buddy! Can we talk ta ya for a minute?"

Vash spun on his heel, and faced five rough-looking men, beards untrimmed, tattoos on their bare shoulders, and hard hats on their heads. Vash looked down the street and saw the cranes and bulldozers for the new courthouse that was going in. The construction workers had been having their break at the store across the street and had seen Vash exit the doctor's office. The first man wore small glasses on his nose, though they looked more like he stole them rather than needed them to see. "What can I help you gentlemen with?" He swallowed thickly hoping the doctor had not been right about the rumors spreading this quickly.

"Red coat and blond hair, you must be him. Rumor says you were the one who destroyed July…"

_Damn it,_ he swore to himself. He _had_ to get out of town! But perhaps if he were civil with these men they wouldn't do anything rash. "That's ridiculous. There's no way a man…"

"What's your name?" A second man said. He had MOM tattooed on his left arm.

"Vash…"

"That's a funny sounding name," said a third, he had a gold tooth. "Sounds like one of them old Earth names… Clive's sister said you spoke funny things about the old generation, what's up with that?"

Vash took a step back from them. He knew this wasn't going the way he'd hoped. "I'm afraid I really don't know… I just can't remember…"

Glasses stepped forward, his fists raised. "Maybe we can _make_ you remember… My wife was in July City… She's been missing for over a week."

He lunged at Vash; who jumped miraculously over the men and landed, light as a cat, on both feet. From his expression, he was as stunned as they were, before regaining his senses and taking off down the street. _How in the hell did I..?_

"Hey! Come back here!"

"He ain't human Harry! Who could jump like that? He part toma or something?" Tattoo yelled as they turned and started running, fists raised.

"Look at 'em run!" Gold Tooth yelled, "Come back here ya bastard!"

Vash didn't stop to chat after that, he still couldn't figure out how he managed to leap over the men like he did, but he wasn't going to stick around and try to figure it out! Well, at least not until he was clear of the town. He dashed around a corner, thinking he could outmaneuver the gang rather than try to take them on in the straightaway, and screeched to a halt. It was a dead end. Vash swallowed, turned, backed into the corner; he was trapped.

"Look what I've found," the forth man said. He'd been in the back of the group and the first one to take off after their prey.

"Harry, you be careful now, he ain't normal."

"Don't worry, scrawny guy like this…" Harry was huge, at least seven eels tall, legs like house posts, and completely bald. He pounded a fist into his palm. "I don't see how a bitty guy like you could have wiped out a whole city… But my wife is missing too, and if you were the only person to come out of there, you'd better start talking."

Shaking his head, Vash stuck his hands into his coat pockets, holding the bullet in his palm, squeezing it as he gritted his teeth. It wouldn't help him without a gun. How could he stop this huge man from beating him into a pulp? He swallowed. "I don't remember anything. Ask the doctor! I lost my memory. As far as I know I was a victim too! I don't know how I survived… Or what I survived."

"That's not a good answer," Glasses growled. "Mess him up a bit Harry."

Harry nodded, "I think I will Mike." He lunged for Vash. The blond headed man closed his eyes, fearing the worse… _If only they'd just leave me alone!_

_Why don't you use it?_ A voice echoed in his head. Vash felt a cold shock run over his body and he couldn't move. _Come now,_ the voice continued, _if you can't remember how, I'll help you._

Minutes passed and the feeling of ice disappeared from Vash's mind, he relaxed, nothing had happened. He swallowed, opened one green-blue eye and found the men were gone. Not a trace of them remained. _What the hell?_ Vash didn't wait for an explanation; he bolted from the alley and down the street. He spooked a group of toma a farmer was bringing in to market, they exploded into frenzy.

"Hey, look what you did! Come back and help with this stampede!"

But Vash didn't look back; it was definitely in his best interest to get out of his town as fast as possible. He had a feeling he would be blamed for the men's disappearances as well if he did.

* * *

Sitting up on a rooftop, a man dressed in a white jacket and jeans watched his twin make his way out of town. He chuckled, uncrossing his arms from over his chest. His hair was blond as well; clean now, uncovered, spikes facing the heavens. He brought his hands together in a slow, quiet, clap. "Well done brother, well done! I couldn't have taken care of them better myself… But you don't know what happened, do you? Passed out for a week and lost your memory… What an interesting turn of events." He smiled darkly.

"You never ran before this, yet there you go Brother… Why is that? A master of all you see, and yet you flee at the smallest insignificant insect!" Down below he saw Clive dash out of the building to help the farmer, and he ceased his applause to listen, turning to watch with aqua eyes hidden in the shadow of a neighboring building.

"What happened?"

"Some guy with a red coat! Help me grab that one!" The farmer and Clive chased after a toma, grabbed his harness and brought him back with the other three. "Stampeding critters, stupid as rocks the lot of ya!"

"Did you see which way the man went?"

"Out of town! Good riddance! What, you knew him or something?"

"I think, his name…"

The man in white leaned forward, listening. His hearing was excellent, it always had been.

"…Vash…"

"Mr. Stampede!" The farmer growled, shaking a fist in the direction of the man's departure. "You ever see that man again, you call him that and tell him I have a bone to pick with that guy!" He wrestled the toma down the street and Clive returned to his office.

The stranger grinned. "Stampede? Well now, _Brother_, seems you've made a name for yourself already." He stood from his perch on the rooftop and leapt down into the alley below. Keeping his feet, he stood up straight and put his hands in his pockets. "Perhaps I should just let rumors take care of you for a time. Seems they're keeping you away from people better than anything I could devise for you at the moment, which is all for the best. I'll find you wherever you go." His smile darkened as he passed under an overhang that shadowed even his blond hair into black.


	3. CH 2 The Bernadelli Insurance Society

_By Job - I think I've got it! Personal thanks to reviewers - you'll receive individual responses from now on (per ff regulations) our updates will probably be every other weekend, please mark us on your watch list just in case it's sooner! Thanks for reading! Milly & Dwellin (Sunsilver)_

"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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Chapter 2

**The Bernadelli Insurance Society**

**Five Years Later**

**Stardate: 07-27-0109-14:00**

For fifty years the honorable Bernadelli Insurance Society building sat in the business block of December City. It was one of the first businesses created by money, sustained by money and had the reputation as one of the best places to get a job in all of Gunsmoke. When William J. Bernadelli first created the society, everyone thought that it was doomed to fail. How could one little man and his son hope to insure a city from itself? There were too many outlaws in the Outer and too much death came from living on such an untamed planet. The town gave him a year to fold. But William had keen sense; he knew that in order to run a truly successful business he had to find job security. His son, Bill Jr. became the sheriff and initiated a plan called "Risk Management" which on this planet was taking out the risks that threatened the city before they caused any damage. "Risks" ran the gamut from outlaws to sandworms. It was a huge success, and fifty years later the B.I.S. was a household name.

No one who bought insurance from Bernadelli ever made larger claims than a few broken windows caused by the occasional dust storm, or perhaps a car crash. The December City office branched out in the cities all over the planet until nearly every small town and outpost had an agent. Bill Jr. eventually saw his own son John become the head of the company. John lived in a house made entirely of wood, the most expensive building material on the planet, about an ile outside of December. John had a small community around him of farmers and employees, various men who worked only for his personal wealth and convenience. The business types came and went, but the farmers and his personal bodyguards were the ones who stayed from his grandfather's time. These were the ones he held in the highest confidence, and the ones he had assembled in his office today.

John was now _the _Mr.Bernadelli with an office that was more like a conference room, a large oval table made of expensive mahogany in the center, the fifteen chairs sat around it were covered with red velvet, and the room was carpeted wall to wall with a dark navy plush. On the wall hung six paintings from an artist from Lost July, which had gained considerable value after his demise with the city five years before. They were ugly paintings, but John paid very little for them and now each of them was worth a year's wages for a normal farmer.

Men sat here gazing on these paintings, waiting on every word that came from his mouth. He was a small, but influential dictator who directed many of the law enforcement operations when it came to identifying and catching outlaws and would be desperadoes. Everyone benefited, especially the people. Their lives were safer, and when they prospered, those above them did as well.

Today, one of his prospering farmers sat in a chair at the end next to his youngest daughter – one of ten children – a blond haired, blue-eyed girl of eighteen. Milly Thompson was tall, not demure, built for the farmstead rather than this exquisite office, face smudged with dirt even after her father Bob had her dressed in her sharpest duster, a yellow and aqua one her mother made her for Easter a few months before. But the one thing that John Bernadelli was excellent at was telling character with just a glance. He had a feeling about her and he was never wrong about what kind of person would make a good field operative, even if she did look out of place in his stately office.

Across from the farmer and his daughter sat one of John's top bodyguards, Gregory Stryfe and his daughter, Meryl, who was two years older than Milly. Her hands were folded in her lap, she wore a casual white skirt and suit set, dark black hair cropped tight to her head, her gray eyes hiding hints of lilac. She was small, only about five eels tall and looked like a doll on the large red velvet chair. She glanced over at Milly wondering why Bernadelli had requested the two daughters come along with their fathers to this meeting. She turned her complete attention to Mr. Bernadelli hoping he would solve her quandaries.

"Bob, Greg, and daughters, I'm so glad you could come to the mansion today. I've been meaning to have you and your wives here for dinner sometime, but you know my hectic schedule." John smiled and the fathers chuckled favorably, everyone knew that John took after his father rather than his grandfather and was out with the Marshall and his men most of the time hunting down outlaws. He preferred to work hands-on rather than sit in a cushy office like his father had. Most of the company respected him for getting his hand dirty. John was as apt to run out and stop the bad-guy himself rather than lose money on insurance pay-outs.

"We're honored," Gregory replied, looking over at his daughter with a soft smile, "But I'm afraid we aren't quite sure why you have brought us here today. You mentioned business rather than pleasure in your message."

John nodded, "Understandably. I've kept my reasons hidden for a purpose," he uncrossed his hands from in front of him and pulled out a pair of reading glasses from his front suit pocket. Sliding them up on his nose, he looked at the four in front of him. "I've lost two of my best men in November City this week."

"What?" Bob's eyes widened, "You mean Connor McPhee and James Langhorne…"

The businessman nodded. "Yes, fine men, both of them. They were excellent agents, I know. They were conducting special research this week, when sadly," he glanced at the girls and decided to continue even in their presence, "They were murdered. Men like that cannot be easily replaced. Although, under the circumstances, it is of utmost importance that I do so as quickly as possible. A new threat to our company has appeared and must be stopped at all costs. I don't necessarily need replacements in November, I have agents already assigned there, but I _do_ need them to continue on with the research my men were doing. There is a lot of money at stake here."

Bernadelli took a deep breath and picked up the papers in front of him. "What I have here are new hire forms." He tapped them carefully against the table, and then pulled from his coat pocket two golden pens. "You know how impossible it is to find trustworthy employees in this city, everyone wants a job with us, but I would much rather hire from within, especially for this. That is why I have not told anyone about my plans until now. I wanted to come to you both first, since you are my most worthy confidants."

"Not to offend, sir," Mr. Stryfe started, "But I am already happily employed in a job that suits me…" He realized all too suddenly that Mr. Bernadelli was no longer looking his way, instead, to his right a bit. His eyes snapped to his daughter, "You mean… You want Meryl here?"

John was smiling as he stood, walking over to stand behind the chairs of Meryl and her father. Meryl had remained silent the entire time, although her breath made a sharp intake when her father mentioned her working for Bernadelli personally. James and Connor were well known as two of the best Risk Insurance agents in the company, she met them once at a company picnic when she graduated from high school. They were good at what they did and they had never failed to protect the city or its inhabitants from impending danger. She had to admit she admired them greatly and talked to her father in length about them later that evening, and even John had noticed how her eyes shimmered hearing about their adventures in the Outer. But how could she, only a girl of twenty just having received her associates' degree in college, take on such a big responsibility?

Bernadelli put his hand on her shoulder and placed the papers in front of her with one of the golden pens. "Well Miss Meryl, what do you say to becoming a trusted and important part of this company?" Meryl swallowed, her gray eyes traveling up to look at her father. He looked proud, yet more than anything, scared. Meryl was his only child and this was far beyond the most dangerous job in the entire company, and to be given to a little girl… _His_ little girl!

"It's okay," John continued after a moment, "I'll give you a few minutes to discuss it between yourselves. I'm sorry I cannot discuss the matter of the assignment until you have signed… It's that hush-hush you see. I can however say that with the deaths of my men, I have found a grave need for responsible young agents who have just your spark and talents to get the job done."

He continued around the table and put the papers in front of Milly as well. Her eyes were confused and she swallowed around a growing lump, "Are you playing a joke on me?" She turned in her seat while hearing gasps from the others as she did so. "Perhaps you meant Mary instead, or even Clive… My sisters and brothers deserve a job like this, not me…." She trailed off when Bernadelli put a hand on her shoulder.

"We may have to teach you proper respect for your elders, please address me as Sir, or Mr. Bernadelli… But other than that, I am not mistaken. I have seen you with your siblings on the farm and I have a feeling you'll make a fine balance to Miss Stryfe." He patted her shoulder and returned to his chair.

Milly turned to look at her father with pleading eyes, but she also knew that such a job would make her father happy, he'd been pushing her to find a job like this for awhile. She'd been resolved to stay on the farm the rest of her life, but her mother and father wanted something more for her. They told her so every chance they got, saying she had potential, but wasn't that what all parents were supposed to say? She bit her lip; apparently someone _else_ thought she had potential too. Her father was excited for her, and she sure did love to see Pops proud… She didn't continue to consider it, there was no other choice really, she was of the age to move out as it was and this would be the perfect opportunity. There might not be another. Milly picked up the pen and signed under the neat type of her name, then pushed the paper forward.

"And what about you?" Bernadelli prompted, looking at the Stryfes. Meryl held the pen in her hand, rolling it between her fingers, over and over as she thought about it. She knew she was going to follow in her father's footsteps but this wasn't exactly the place where she thought they would start her out. Something big was up, Meryl decided as she glanced at Milly. Bernadelli must have seen something in both of them to call them in for this task without the normal routine of training and rising through the company.

Meryl loved a good challenge and taking a top job like this was right up her alley. But was this other girl up for it? The petite girl frowned slightly, she didn't know her and was afraid that she might be one of those soft girls, unable to kill a fly. She herself had been raised never to hesitate when it came to defending herself. Meryl was a little concerned about the girl, especially if they were teamed up together. The only time she had been in a setting to observe the blond it had been at a company picnic and there were several boys crowding around her with interest, and it made Meryl sniff with impatience. She wondered if the girl was one of those that had a new boyfriend in tow every week. If that was the case then things were going to get ugly in a hurry. _No_, Meryl thought, _maybe I should give this girl a chance; after all, Bernadelli is giving this opportunity to us equally_. But this wasn't just some office-filing job; lives might depend upon their actions.

The farm girl sat looking at her chewed fingernails, her father patting her on the back trying to calm her. Meryl sighed; she was raised in the same town but didn't have any friends who were from farming families. Actually, Meryl admitted that she didn't have many friends in the first place. Her practical, businesslike nature and disdain for many things that girls her age deemed important had set her apart even at the all-girl's school she attended years ago. She was of course, her Daddy's girl.

When Mr. Bernadelli made a small coughing sound, Meryl realized she was holding things up by her considerations. She signed the paper before her father could object to losing his only daughter.

"Terrific!" John exclaimed as he dashed up from his seat, collecting the papers and shuffled them to his chest, "Keep the pens my dears. You two start your training tomorrow. Then within a month, although I'm sure you won't need that long, we'll start you on your assignment! I can't wait to see how you do!" He didn't say any more; instead he shook all of their hands and called for his secretary to hustle them all out onto the veranda for lemonade and cake. Bernadelli didn't make an appearance, so the two fathers and the two daughters had plenty of time to get to know one another.

Stryfe and Thompson took cigars proffered to them from the butler and went downwind from the girls to commence smoking them. Meryl smoothed her skirt over her thighs and took a glass of lemonade and stared out at the sprawling lawn of green grass and trees that Bernadelli owned. There was a fountain of sparkling blue water down the stairs that was shaped like the company's crest, a large shield with a scrolled "B" in the center. She sipped the lemonade, leaning against the railing, hoping that Milly would find another place to occupy herself, but found the younger girl standing next to her with a cheerful smile, hand out in greeting. "Hi, I'm Milly Ann Thompson."

"Yes, I know," Meryl said demurely, glancing at Milly's hand, it was already covered in crumbs from the piece of cake she had in her other hand. "I'm Meryl Agnes Stryfe."

Milly nodded, completely unaffected by Meryl's reticence toward her. She pulled over two chairs and sat down in her chair, munching on the cake with her fingers rather than using the fork and plate provided. Meryl eventually took the proffered chair and sat as Milly began to talk. "I'm really scared you know? I've always lived on the farm… I can't imagine going to the Outer… The only gun I've shot is the stun gun, that big honking thing my father gave me for when the toma stampede, you know, take 'em down soft and get their harnesses back on. I heard agents sometimes have to shoot people…" Milly chewed on her cake, took her glass of lemonade and swallowed it down quickly, some of it spilling over her cheek. "I'm just scared to death of what this special assignment might be, what about you?"

Meryl turned her head, "I'm not allowed to be scared. I learned how to shoot a derringer when I was four. In my father's circle they call me Derringer Meryl. On my last birthday I received a specialized traveling cape so I can carry fifty of them thanks to father and Mr. Bernadelli." She sipped her drink and sighed. "So I guess I'm going to have to watch out for you from now on?"

"Oh, you don't hafta do that," Milly said, her hands in her lap now, she rolled them into fists, "I can take care of myself, I promise! I won't let you down! We'll make a great team and Mr. Bernadelli will be proud of us and our families will be proud…"

"It's an honor just to work for this company at all." Meryl set down her glass and turned to face Milly with curiosity and then with another sigh, composed her features into what she hoped was a no-nonsense look. "Okay, I want to set one thing straight between us. We can't afford to screw up; our families are depending on us, this company, as are any towns where we will be assigned, but especially Mr. Bernadelli since he is putting his faith in us." Then as if instructing a small child, Meryl composed herself, looked Milly in the eye, and stated firmly, "Now, we can't be disgracing the team with any school girl romances. We don't have time for that and it would just keep us from focusing on the job. So, as long as we are a team, we will not be doing any boyfriend looking."

Milly wanted to giggle at the phrase. It was the first release of tension she had felt since she and Pops had walked up the stairs to the mansion. This small person sure was self-assured and trying so hard to sound grownup and more mature than her years. Milly figured this girl was insecure and used a tough front to cover that fact and also that she was a very loving person who was lonely. She had probably been hurt by multiple friends in the past. Well, they had teamed Miss Meryl up with the right person. She, Milly, was a good friend and she would be there to be the friend that Meryl needed. However, those bright gray eyes with the unusual lilac highlights in them were leveled in her direction. For now Meryl needed her assurance. "I would never dream of doing anything like that," Milly responded.

Meryl waved her hand, "Yeah, sure. I saw you at the picnic a few years ago, guys hovering around you, and they were practically hanging onto your every word. I suppose something like that might come in handy in some jobs, but it will be distracting for most of them. Remember, this job is not just another avenue for you to look for boyfriends. Just keep in mind, no personal lives from now on, you understand? Risk Management agents do not have the time or the inclination to set up lives that are not completely devoted to work."

The blond was frowning, being Meryl's friend was going to take some effort on her part, she saw that right away, but she was not one to back down from a challenge either, she straightened her back, thoroughly chewed out for reasons she thought completely unfair, and she sucked in a breath through her nose to set Meryl straight. "You're wrong about me. I have never had a boyfriend in my entire life. The only reason there were guys around me at the picnic was because I was telling them the story of my brother Clive who just came back from the Outer a month before that, and they were hanging on my every word only because Clive's their hero! He found Vash the Stampede you know… It should have been him getting this job, not me. Guys don't find me attractive, I don't flirt because I don't know how, and if it weren't for my brother I'd never have even one person of the opposite sex talking to me, because they just don't! I'm not very smart, which most guys would find attractive, but the moment they realize I'm a head taller than them, then it's all over." She let out the rest of her breath and didn't talk after that, knowing that the smaller girl would need a moment to process all of it.

Meryl was in awe of this little outburst; perhaps she had completely the wrong impression of Milly after all? Maybe they were more similar than she had first thought. _Mr. Bernadelli must have seen it in us._ She wiped her hand on a napkin and extended it to Milly, "My apologies Miss Milly. I'm not a very good judge of character at times. Partners?"

Milly looked at her hand, wiped her own fingers on her duster, then realizing what she was doing, grabbed a napkin and shook Meryl's hand. "Partners. It's okay Miss Meryl, I'm not always the best character to judge." Her brow creased in thought, "Oh wait, that sounded a bit off…"

"Looks like you two are getting along splendidly," Mr. Stryfe said as he came back to them, his cigar spent. "This is wonderful!"

Thompson came and patted his daughter on the head. "I think they'll make a good team, what do you think Greg?"

"More than good, wonderful! Just like us, they will do great. Our fine daughters will take on any task they are given and meet it head on, isn't that right Meryl?"

The dark haired girl nodded, "Yes Father."

"And what about you Milly?"

"Sure will Pops!" She grinned and looked at Meryl. "We'll be famous in no time!"


	4. CH 3 Barhopping and Traveling Mercies

_SPOILER ALERT: We all love these right? If you're reading the Trigun Maximum manga at present and don't want any spoilers, be warned! Mind you, we take the ideas that we've gotten from some of the most recent issues of the manga and re-write them in subtle ways... But some of the ideas are still here in the whole because we really like to portray the characters as close to the manga as we can - and _then_ we play with them... heh heh heh... Sunsilver (Dwellin) and Milly T... Roll the disclaimer!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

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****Chapter 3**

**Barhopping & Traveling Mercies  
A Year Later **

**Stardate: 07-04-0110-22:00**

The little bar was named "Jesters"; it was a square gray brick building with one little unobtrusive door in the back. Normally that door remained closed; a huge bouncer with dark skin and dreadlocks, sat behind that door on a stool. No one got in or out without his permission, and his permission was only given when the manager gave the patron the password. It wasn't a classy joint, just the opposite, dirty carpet on the floor, dark oppressive walls, a grungy toilet for both sexes, and one tiny little stained glass window on the far wall. The stained glass window didn't show outside, it merely hung there for color, the only color in the place besides the patrons.

One such patron wore a white coat, his light blond hair framed his eyes alluringly, and a most fascinating grin spread over his face. He was king of all he surveyed, from grungy seat to filthy bar; it was _his:_ his miserable people drinking away their worries and their cares. His arms were spread along the back of the maroon sofa that was reserved especially for him. He lounged like a cat, firmly planted in the sagging cushions, his legs up on a tottering table in front of him.

He liked this place, it was full of death, sex, and corruption. Everything that human beings were supposed to be like, they were right here before him. He remembered watching the still forms slumbering away in their cryo-sleep pods, and at the time he wondered what they might be like awakened from their dreams. He and his brother researched them, found videos of just the sort of thing going on in front of him at this very moment. Sure enough, it was as they had expected, a pit of filth, but for some reason he enjoyed it this way; it was oh so much easier to kill their kind when they were mere animals here for the slaughter.

Then again, they _did_ have their uses, he mused, watching the two giggling women flirting with him from the bar, one wiggling her slim fingers his way. The little spaghetti strap of her dress slid off of her shoulder and her friend got hers to do the same, not to be outdone. The man just smiled, not asking them to come over, for he knew they would eventually come on their own if they were interested in danger. His eyes trailed to the stage where a band was setting up for the evening.

His arms came down from the back of the sofa, and he leaned forward, planting his feet on the floor again. He took up a slim beer bottle from the glassy surface of the table in front of him and put it to his lips. The beer had gone warm, so he only sipped at it. His eyes were on the three men up on stage, a guitarist, a drummer, and a new one, a saxophone player he didn't recognize. Perhaps he was a stand in for the normal guy, taken deathly ill from some sand virus; it was known to happen. He'd heard the band before, they played old cover songs from Earth: the ones Rem used to have them listen to on the ship. He wondered what kind of life Rem used to live if she knew this trashy type of music. She told him once that she had been on a drinking binge shortly after Alex died, so he supposed she barhopped at that time.

With eyes almost unnaturally bright aqua in the dark bar, he removed his attention from the stage and scanned the room, looking for newcomers. Many of the girls here he'd already taken home before. The two at the bar were new, but they weren't his normal fare, a bit too tall and lanky, with fingers suspiciously masculine. On the opposite side of the bar near the bathroom sat a woman in all white, blond hair carefully coifed around a small white hat. She looked like she belonged in one of December City's lounges rather than in this dingy backwater bar. The woman glanced his way, a smile cresting her features, and she stood holding her drink and started toward him.

Leaning back in his seat, he watched her approach. She was tall, but not overly so, slim but strong, her strides calculated like that of an athlete. He wondered offhandedly what she might be like in bed. Like a wild cat about to spring perhaps… More likely to lunge for his throat than anything, it turned him on and thrilled him slightly, it had been a while since a woman had been able to break him out of his boredom. He'd met many a woman in his time but never one quite like this. Perhaps he hung out in the wrong circles.

Her fingers were carefully wrapped around a martini held up near her chest as if to block him from staring at what lay behind. His eyes immediately snapped up to her ruby lips. "Is this seat taken?" She asked demurely, nodding to the spot beside him. He smiled generously and patted the sofa next to him. "Thank you," she responded, sitting down. She placed her drink in front of them and turned to her host. "Master…"

His eyes widened a moment, _Oh, so this is why she's dressed so fancy, a hired woman…_ He coughed, taking a sip of his beer and replied, "I'm afraid I don't play that game, or _pay_ for it for that matter," he murmured, his fingers toying with the label on his bottle. "But perhaps if I knew your name..."

The woman licked her lips, "Have you so easily forgotten us?"

His eyes narrowed, "I have forgotten nothing. It seems you have mistaken me for someone else." This woman was confusing, and he did _not_ appreciate being confused. It annoyed him. He wanted her to get to the point, were they flirting or not? If she was a hired woman she'd have to seek her wage somewhere else. He could find plenty of women - like those two at the bar - who would come home with him for free, willingly, easily just as women did whenever he was in the mood. Although her oddity made her all the more attractive, he had to admit, in a dangerous sort of way, like cliff jumping.

"Are you quite sure?" The woman picked up her martini again, glancing over to the stage where the guitarist was starting to pluck out a slow chord, warming up. When she looked back again, the man was staring a dark hole through her head; she wasn't fazed by his mood. "Oh, then I must be mistaken. Perhaps you don't know the name Millions after all."

His hands wrapped around the woman's throat instantly, she was laughing, but the man was not smiling. The name _indeed_ struck a chord with him, a sour one, she should not have known it - it was a hidden name - a secret one only he and his brother knew. That she knew it meant an early death for her. He had murder written over his features as he said, "Who _are_ you? I won't hesitate to kill you right now if you refuse to answer."

The woman tilted her head to the side. "Most call me Crimson Nail, but you may call me Elendira if you like. You may find out my real name if you play your game well…" She nodded to the stage; "However, my associate wouldn't appreciate it if you killed me."

The man's eyes carried over to the new saxophone player who was standing on the stage, his fingers on the plungers, lips pressed to the reed. He was dressed as neatly, navy suit, with a pink shirt, dark hair slicked back on his head. There was something _odd_ about the saxophone.

Loosening his fingers around Elendira's neck, the man found he didn't like the look in that saxophone player's eyes, no remorse or hesitation there. It reminded him of himself. "And who is he?"

"His name is Midvalley," Elendira waved a slow finger at him and he lowered the sax from his lips. Her eyes turned to look at her host once again. "Master… We have not met I am sad to say, but Legato told us all about you. Apparently you had slipped from his grasp..." She lifted her fingers to run through his blond hair. It was soft to the touch, almost as if his hair had no styling products at all, like it stood up on end by its own will. Elendira mused that perhaps it was the electricity firing even now through his body and out through his cold stare that made it stand up so. "We have been searching for quite a few years now with nary a clue to your whereabouts. I personally grew tired of waiting on Legato to introduce us, so decided to start a hunt of my own. I'm so glad that we were finally able to find you."

"We? How many are there?" The man glanced around the room; no one else was watching the display, so perhaps they weren't here. Legato he knew, but the others, he didn't know there were others.

"Thirteen total," she responded. "And no, I did not bring them with me, they are scattered to the sands at the moment, awaiting their Master's return to his throne."

The gunman's hands slipped from her throat. His mouth was dry suddenly. Thoughts of taking a woman home for the evening were slowly dissipating from his mind. He liked this idea, of Master of all that he surveyed. Hadn't he thought of just that here in the bar mere minutes before? Would it be possible with a group of thirteen to take over the miserable infested little planet? Wipe out all of the unwanted; leave perhaps the better of the women for his enjoyment… He leaned forward to pick up his beer, but his hand came away empty and his eyes searched for it. He'd dropped the bottle when he lunged for Elendira. It laid on the floor, empty now, a dark puddle around it barely visible on the already stained floor. He waved for another from the bartender, Elendira waiting patiently the entire time.

When he received his second beer and used it to quench his thirst, he said under his breath, "And what do you want in return?"

"To come help you, to join you as was planned five years ago, to help you in your search for your brother." Elendira placed her hand on his shoulder, sliding it down his long white coat. "We have been worried about your disappearance, you have not contacted Legato since the last incident… He was an utter disgrace, I know. Although I don't blame you for leaving Bluesummer's side," she added disdainfully, she hated the little dog that followed her Master everywhere. "In fact it would be better if you do not under your current condition… You seem to have all but forgotten your mission, _our_ mission in life on this planet."

Her master shook his head, "I have forgotten nothing. I want nothing more than to seek my revenge, and exterminate the filth that landed on this planet with my brother and me. And to do so, I need more than the help of mere insects…" He kept an eye upon Elendira to see her response. She merely nodded in approval. Something just wasn't _right_ about this woman. He couldn't put his finger on it for sure… No, not completely. Most would be aghast at destroying their own kind, taking them down to the single root, until even that was dug up and burned in the twin suns. But she seemed to revel in it as much as he reveled in his own good looks and ability of coaxing any woman to his bed.

"We are much _more_ than the filth you so despise," Elendira murmured, "Much more. We have powers no human could hope to possess… I know you are aware of Legato's, however, each of us have our own unique abilities."

He felt almost as if he were playing along in an elaborate game, one in which if the cards would all lay right he would trump. "What makes you think you can help me? And why would you want destroy those who get in my way? If you all have power, why not take something for yourself?"

"I know better than to get in the way of someone much more powerful and destructive than myself. I also know," Elendira said with a quick smirk, "that by playing on a side, it becomes more interesting. You told Legato that you wished for his help to make Vash suffer, for betraying you, of course. I would enjoy helping you, it would make my dull existence brighter." Elendira smiled, her hands trailing up new territory as she moved her hand below his white coat. "We live only to serve you in whatever way you desire, Master Knives."

Enjoying the moment now, Knives wondered if perhaps he _would_ go home with a woman this evening after all. She was quite beautiful, carefully made up in her way… He put his fingers under her jaw, moving forward to kiss her cheek seductively. She moaned beneath his touch, moving her hands to his, urging him to hold her. Elendira seemed to enjoy this as much as he was… He ran his lips down the side of her long neck wondering at the strength of her shoulders. Knives moved his hands lower, down her shoulders, down to her… masculine chest! With a startled gasp, his eyes widened and he pushed away from her, looking at Elendira as if for the first time. He saw the Adam's apple, the wide hands; the strong shoulders were those of… "You're a man!"

"Of course…" Elendira murmured softly, eager for her master's _personal_ attention. "You were very kind to Legato's tender advances, but now that you had switched over to a softer fare…"

Knives stood. "Silence!"

"But Master…"

"You're a filthy piece of garbage… How _dare_ you even believe me capable of doing something so demoralizing?" Knives spat, he was ablaze at her trickery. Did she seriously think that he would do something with a _man_? They were an even dirtier and corrupt species than females were! He had to admit it to himself because as of late he had become one of the worst himself… "Get out of my sight!"

Elendira laughed. The sound was hearty, and Knives realized her voice was a bit too husky as well, why hadn't he noticed it before? He wanted to wash down the taste of her skin with his beer but he was out again. The bartender was ignoring the commotion. Midvalley was tense on the stage. Elendira however, didn't seem bothered at all. "You are definitely not the same man that Legato described you to me. But it's okay… I can wait." She leaned toward Knives but he flinched, backing away suddenly.

"Don't touch me…"

"I'd do so much more than that if you enjoyed such trifles," Elendira murmured, too close for comfort, her face near his own. "I heard that you didn't enjoy the company of humans before, but perhaps all things must change eventually. I would love to explore what brought this on… Of course I was teasing about Legato; he's a shrew, but a loyal one, he knows better than to touch a being such as yourself." She bowed slightly, "As for myself, my apologies. I only wish to serve you in whatever ways you need."

Elendira dug her fingers into a small pocket on the front of her blazer and produced a card. "When you have need of me, this is where you can reach me. It was a pleasure, Master." She backed away and threw her head into a nod and Midvalley jumped down from the stage. The couple departed the bar in a matter of moments.

Disgusted, Knives ordered another beer, then a second one for sanity's sake and drank each one in one long gulp each before leaning back on his sofa. He crossed his lithe arms over his chest, then on second thought, unbuttoned his coat and took it off, placing it beside him. Underneath he wore a white shirt and blue jeans. It was much too stuffy in this bar all of a sudden… But his thoughts were too scattered to mind.

He wanted to take a woman to bed with him tonight. Get the idea of kissing a man from his head. But at the same time, he remembered what Elendira said. Thirteen men, or perhaps also women, all working for _him._ When had Legato gathered them all? He had mentioned other monsters before, hadn't he? Legato was trying to get on Knives' good side again… Was that it? They knew about his search for his brother, knew about his ultimate goal… Even though he couldn't recall ever meeting them, they were _his_ elite force; this he could tell by how physically muscled Elendira was beneath her clothing. Midvalley looked strong too. The others were undoubtedly trained personally by Legato.

And Legato… What of him? Where was he hiding? Knives shook his head, he wasn't sure; the man hadn't surfaced for well over a year. Perhaps it was better that he did not know. Apparently he was a master of monsters. Elendira and Midvalley proved that point for him; he didn't have to see the others to know that they would all be equally scary in their own ways, and most likely an asset to him.

Knives looked down at the card Elendira proffered him. It gave an address of a building in December City. Not too far from where he was staying. He wondered why she did not approach him before, but perhaps she… no _he_, he couldn't get the pronoun out of his mind however much he corrected himself. She had waited for just the right opportunity.

Securing the card on his person, Knives stood and pulled on his coat again. He wasn't _nearly_ as drunk as he'd hoped to be by this time. Nor had he received any _feminine_ attention this evening. He was turned off by what he had received anyway. He doubted even the easier ladies at the bar would have touched him after his uproar a few moments before. Knives sighed, making his exit from his filthy kingdom and out into the cool night air. _Maybe I can find a lonely girl out past curfew…_

The stars were shining brightly and he smiled to himself, it was a beautiful night, and it could _all_ be his, couldn't it? The moons in the sky and the vast desert stretching out in every direction. A veritable paradise waiting for the king to claim his throne. He had the power, and now perhaps the tools…

Knives shrugged his shoulders and wandered away from the little bar and out onto the main street. It made him tired to think about taking care of it all. At least not without the help of his brother, he couldn't do it alone. First priority would be to find his brother again… He chuckled to himself, he'd heard of rumors of his brother from all ends of the planet now. After the first year or so he'd stopped following him, it was a boring past time anyway once he'd discovered sex and alcohol. And the Stampede had started to travel with a group of religious types, which separated him even farther from his twin.

The street that lead to the small bar joined up with one of the brighter and well traveled thoroughfares through the city. Knives walked briskly past the casinos and theaters, the coffee shops and trinket stores, listening to the giggling girls and laughing teenagers on their way home for the night. There was so much life here, he couldn't see laying a hand on it, laying it to blood, but he couldn't see living with it for all eternity either. Already he'd lived over a hundred years with these strange beings, though it was only within the last six that he came to really understand what loathing meant. He wanted his revenge; he wanted to pick up where they left off those years ago in July City.

"Oh! Excuse me!" A young woman said, nearly bumping into him as he passed by a theater. Knives stopped and looked down at her; he hadn't been watching where he was going either. One hand still on an open door, she was apparently waiting for someone else to come out behind her. "Hurry up _Milly_, if we don't get home the landlady is going to kill us!"

Knives stepped aside as a taller girl came out of the door with a coat draped over her arm, "I'm so sorry Meryl… I know what Mr. Bernadelli would say if he knew we were out this late, but after seeing that movie once, you had to agree with me, we had to see it again!" Her blue eyes suddenly caught the stranger's, "Oh, I'm sorry, are we in your way? Are you going in?"

"No, it's okay," he murmured. "Did you say Bernadelli a moment ago? You don't work for the Insurance Society, do you?" His interest was piqued; he'd met insurance agents from that company before, but usually they were never young women. Knives glanced to the smaller one, eyes innocent and gray, a bit tired perhaps, but sparkling nonetheless. The other one was strong and solid, also as innocent, but in a light-headed way as if she weren't capable of a deep thought. Both were _incredibly_ appealing to him and he felt a stirring below his stomach. Neither looked easy to bed though; business women, he thought dismally, always seemed to wait until marriage. He wasn't in the mind to force himself on anyone tonight.

"Yeah, but we're still training," Meryl said with a roll of her eyes. "We were told months ago that we'd be out of this dull city and into the Outer, but for some reason he just won't let us go yet."

"The Outer? You two?" Knives looked at them in astonishment. He chuckled. They couldn't possibly think that a place like that was safe for the likes of them… There were all sorts of horrible outlaws just waiting to attack… Well, men like him rather. "Why would you even want to go out there?"

Milly smiled. "To look for Vash the Stampede of course, silly."

"We are going to _curtail _that _devil's _destructive activities," Meryl explained with a firm lift of her chin.

"We have to find him first though," said Milly, raising a hand to muffle a yawn.

"Don't worry, we will." Meryl folded her arms over her chest with a grim expression. "You can rest assured knowing your property will be taken care of when it's insured by Bernadelli! Especially from the likes of Vash the Stampede… If he ever shows his face again we'll get him!" Knives thought she looked more cutely elfin rather than a fierce man hunter. He doubted any dangerous desperado would tremble at the sight of either one of them. Instead, it would be closer to the truth to say that they would be weak from helpless fits of laughter rather than fear. _He_ certainly was at the moment, trying desperately not to laugh at these cute little insurance fairies!

He looked over to see Milly barely able to keep her eyes open and visibly swaying on her feet. She tugged on Meryl's shoulder, "I'm sleepy, we really do need to get to bed or we'll be late for work in the morning."

"Like that's ever stopped you!" Meryl brandished. She nodded, however. "Nice to meet you, whatever your name is." Without a word they headed off down the street, waved down a taxi and were gone.

"It's…" Knives trailed off, the girls were no longer paying attention. Knives smiled for the first time that evening. A plan was forming. Maybe it would be possible to find his brother, with just a little help from these two.

After all, even a devil could use some insurance.

* * *

**Traveling Mercies**

**Stardate: 07-04-0110 22:30**

That same evening, a man dressed all in black was sitting out on the front porch of a small church, watching the stars. The church was about fifty iles away from December City, and was home to a small orphanage with a handful of children, whom, like himself, had lost their parents to one fate or another. The moons were bright overhead this evening. The main one called the Fifth moon, was waxing and it dwarfed the other two moons that were visible this evening, making them almost look like overgrown stars rather than full moons. They carved a trail through the stars in the sky as he watched, waiting for the children to be put down for the night, waiting for the sound of their soft breathing through the open window to his right.

When the last light went out in Grandma Melanie's room, the man reached into his jacket and pulled a cigarette from the depths. He put it to his lips and stood, walking a few steps from the building before lighting it. The smoke curled around his roman nose and up through his dark bangs. He took a very long drag on the cigarette before taking it from his lips and exhaling, facing the stars.

He wondered which star marked the solar system their kind came from. They weren't meant to be on this horribly dry planet. His ancestors had crash-landed here nearly a hundred and fifty years ago, although he had no idea who they were. He didn't even know for sure who his parents were, but that their last name was Wolfwood and that they had given him a common first name and a _very_ uncommon middle name that Melanie shortened when he was first dropped off on the steps of the orphanage.

Wolfwood glanced over his shoulder to the drab whitewashed church and parsonage. It was his home, even though he had not spent much time here lately. Two years ago he left the place with a man who took care of stray children and raised them to be a part of the church. He had no idea at the time what kind of church, or what kind of raising he would get. The children waved him a sad goodbye and he thought for a long time that he would never see them again.

And then, in the little town of Five Sands almost a year later, he finished his training. He looked different, so much so he was afraid he could never go back to the orphanage. In a year's time he had aged nearly five and he was antsy in his own skin. He was stronger than a normal human, carried a weapon that would have dwarfed his old height, and could kill a man at a thousand paces. It wasn't something he was necessarily proud of, but he had needed the skills to survive with his new 'family.'

Walking now away from the building, his eyes scanned the horizon. The camp was about an ile away; he could see the lights in the distance. He had asked the traveling sect of the Eye of Michael to stay away from the building, stay away from the children, to keep them safe from the dangerous lifestyle that he was a part of now. But he himself had to come, had to peer in at them one last time before they left the area to head south on their way to December City.

Normally the pilgrimage avoided the larger cities, spreading the word, finding new converts to the worship of the strange creatures called plants. They were simply man-made inventions for power and matter-manipulation, but some saw them as creatures from God, or perhaps gods themselves, although Wolfwood himself never believed that. He saw only that they were pale shadows, looking at times like malformed angels, nothing more. The men he traveled with had varying opinions on the subject. They had been able to do some extraordinary things with the DNA from those "angels", and even Wolfwood had experienced it. His speeded up metabolism was a result of gene-splicing with the plant's genetic makeup.

Everyone in the camp thought it was a miracle when he came out of surgery nearly three feet taller and a hundred pounds heavier. He was strong, he was older and he looked like the devil himself. At least, that's what Nicholas thought of himself, he knew there was something intrinsically wrong with what they had done to him, but he had no choice because they could not reverse it. The priests all congratulated him that God had smiled upon him, he had survived the surgery unlike so many other malformed lifeless bodies, which were left to rot in the sands. They thought it was truly an honor to be changed so.

Well, maybe not everyone. Wolfwood smiled faintly to himself as he continued his trek across the sands back to the camp. The two most recent additions to their little band of travelers had all but put a stop to the experiments and torture inflicted upon its members.

In the little town of Five Sands, a place south of Lost July, the Eye of Michael had set up camp shortly after Nicholas' transformation. There, one of the members of the group went berserk. Actually, Wolfwood knew the cause, and even to this day held it hurt within him like an old bullet never removed. The man was his friend, his childhood pal, Crybaby Livio. But Livio had a hidden secret, another identity: one that pained Livio almost as much as it pained those around him. The church acted as if he was a secret weapon, but even they could not control him when he went crazy. That day, Nicholas could do nothing but watch, following at a distance when suddenly a strange man with pale blond hair stopped Razlo.

The man simply held up his hand, and Razlo stopped dead in his tracks. That's all it took for him to fall to his knees in a deep bow, Wolfwood stumbling not to trip over him, both of them in awe of this weird man. He looked over a hundred years old. He wore an untrimmed nearly white beard, his hair fell over his ears, and he wore only rags. But it was his eyes… Those glowing greenish blue eyes that stopped Razlo's attack dead in its tracks. And there, Livio kneeled, his own silvery hair falling across his face, the insane personality completely withdrawn and all was still.

Wolfwood tried to ask him what had happened, but the man didn't say a word. Moments passed by and a door opened to a nearby house and out walked a bald man in a white coat. He wore a stethoscope around his neck. "What's going…" He trailed off almost immediately as the ancient man glared at him. "It's you…"

Then suddenly, without warning, his eyes rolled up into his head and the old man crumpled to his knees, falling into Livio's arms. The doctor came running as Livio picked the stranger up in his arms to carry him into the building.

After that the memories became foggy for Wolfwood. He remembered only scattered fragments of William Conrad introducing himself, of the ancient man being brought inside by Livio, looking almost as if he were hypnotized, and himself following silently behind in a daze.

He wasn't even sure how many days they were in that building, waiting for the patient to be treated. Two, Nicholas reminded himself, Conrad knew that these two men had something in common almost immediately by the color of their hair. Sure enough, Wolfwood heard words coming from the other room of plants and genetic engineering and so many other scientific terms that were surely lost to the sands in all but this one place. Then one day the doctor came out of the room, leading behind him a smiling Livio and a gloomy blond-haired young man wearing a red coat.

"What happened to the old guy?" Wolfwood asked, although soon enough he realized how stupid the question was. It was the man before him; his blond hair sticking straight up, his aqua eyes were the same as the old man. "Oh… It was you?"

Livio grabbed his friend and said, "Guess what! Doctor Conrad's fixed me!" He hugged him tightly as if they were long-lost friends.

With eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fish, Wolfwood struggled out from Livio's bear hug and coughed for air. "He's… He's what?"

"Hypnosis," the doctor told him slowly, "Livio's cell structure has been drastically altered by the…" William stopped, his eyes reading Nicholas' face immediately knowing that he had absolutely no idea what he was saying. The doctor began again, "Livio has two people inside of him. One is himself; the other is the soul of a plant. The plant is unstable, but I can bring it under control with hypnosis."

"Oh," Wolfwood was still amazed. He did eventually manage to close his mouth as he looked at the gloomy man standing quietly next to the doctor. "And what's he got to do with all of this?"

"He's a plant."

"You mean part, like Livio, right?"

The young man shook his head, "No, like _all_ plant." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't think this is such a good idea, Doc. These men are obviously back-water bumpkins…"

"Who're ya callin'…" Nicholas felt a tight hand squeeze his shoulder and his eyes narrowed. When he got angry his accent became even thicker and Livio knew it. His friend eyed him almost to say he should act with caution. Wolfwood closed his mouth.

William Conrad sighed deeply and patted the man on his shoulder, "My boy, these people are probably the _best_ ones for the job."

"What job?" Nicholas asked.

"To protect him," Livio replied. He smiled, "It's a pleasure, Master."

Wolfwood snorted, and Conrad cracked a smile. "That's quite enough of your nickname, Livio. It's better that we're all on a first name basis around here."

"So what's his name?" Nicholas asked, looking directly at the man they were supposed to protect.

The doctor opened his mouth to say something, but the young man cut him off, "I'm Vash," he said quickly. It took a moment to sink in with Wolfwood, even though he never told anyone that part of the story usually.

"_Vash_? As in Vash the Stampede kind of Vash?"

Simply nodding, the young man set his jaw and waited for Wolfwood to continue, and he surely did. "The guy with the sixty-billion double dollar reward on him for the destruction of July City and the suspected murder of Count Revenant Vasquez… _That_ Vash?"

"He didn't murder the Count," the doctor said suddenly. Wolfwood gave him an odd look. "But he _did_ destroy the city."

"But how in the world could he have…"

Vash was turning around on his heel to go back into the office when Doc grabbed him by the elbow and turned him around again. "He's a plant remember? Your friend there can murder hundreds and he only has the _soul_ of a plant within him…" Conrad squeezed Vash's shoulder, "And you my dear boy are not going anywhere. I'm closing up my office and we're going with these two gentlemen and their party until we find your brother."

"He's got a _brother?_" Nicholas felt like he was just listening to a talk-soap radio program on the satellite. What were they going to say next, that Vash was his real father or something? Or maybe he had a sister too and he was engaged to her? The doctor, however, didn't say anything to Nicholas' question and Livio took him by the arm and steered him out to the front porch.

"We'll let the others at the camp know that you're coming," the big man said over his shoulder. Doctor Conrad nodded and started talking to Vash in hushed tones as the door closed behind them. Livio glanced down at his friend. "Are you okay Brother Nick?"

"I'm fine… And don't call me 'Brother,' makes me sound like I'm a monk or something." He pulled away from Livio and hitched a thumb over his shoulder, "What's going on in there anyway?"

Livio shrugged his big shoulders and it was a very long time before Nicholas found out just exactly what was going on with the Doctor, Vash the Stampede, and why they had chosen that time to join the Eye of Michael's pilgrimage.

Since then, over a year later, the camp had split into different parties. Those who didn't agree with the doctor's ban on experiments, and those who agreed with them. Nicholas and Livio, although guinea pigs themselves, chose to follow Vash and the doctor, along with a handful of others. They took a dozen tents, a few trucks, and headed west to the church on Jeonora Rock.

Although, that plan changed the moment they stepped foot in November. Two men were killed, a block of the city destroyed, and Wolfwood never saw Vash the same way again. He had come up with a nickname for him at that point, although he never used it directly to his face. "Spikey," was what he called the man when he was in Livio's company, even though his tall friend merely called him Master, even after multiple attempts to get him to stop. To his face, however, even Nicholas had started to call Vash "Master" in realization that yes, this was the man who destroyed July City, and yes, he could destroy them all if he so chose to. They no longer needed to protect him; he was protecting _them_ from an unseen enemy that dogged their footsteps, that caused the horrible events in November City over a year before.

Closer to the camp now, Wolfwood removed the spent cigarette from his lips and tossed it to the sand. He continued to walk when a voice behind him said, "You shouldn't litter."

"What does it matter anyway? It's all a dump here anyway," Nicholas murmured, listening to gravel crunching off to his left as the speaker came over to walk with him. "What are you doing outside of the camp? Does the Doc know you're here?"

Livio shrugged his massive shoulders. "Earlier today I saw something out here, but Doctor Conrad wouldn't let me investigate. He's asleep now, so I thought I'd look…" Wolfwood stopped walking. Even though both he and Livio looked like they were in their late twenties, he was only seventeen and Livio a year younger. Boys really, even Nicholas wished he could admit that, wished he had parents to go home to and a warm bed to crawl into before school the next morning. But life with the Eye of Michael was hard, and they were forced to grow up very quickly. He had spent a long time deliberating his fate and how long his life would be because of this accelerated growth. Luckily Conrad had stopped it for both of them, but their minds were still young.

"What do you have in your hand?"

"A human skull… Only a quarter though," Livio held it up into the moonlight. "Cool, huh?"

Wolfwood rolled his eyes. "Throw that thing away."

"No, I'm going to keep it… I'm going to make it into a mask so it'll cover up…" He trailed off and started walking and Nicholas had to double-time to catch up to him. They both knew what he wanted to cover up… His _other_ enhancements, those not created by splicing his DNA with a plant's. Livio had never seemed to be bothered by his appearance before that episode in Five Sands, but since then, he'd grown increasingly self-conscious of it.

"Don't you think it would be worse if someone saw you wearing a _skull_ on half of your face?" Nicholas said after a few minutes. "I'd think that would scare the girls off even faster than if you just showed them what you really look like…"

"Girls?" Livio flushed. He thought suddenly of Jasmine and how close she was. Nicholas had surely seen her at the orphanage that evening but he had not been allowed to go. He wanted to see her again, the little girl with the raven black hair… "No girl's ever going to like me, and this way they'll stay away." He put the quarter-skull to his face and said, "See? It fits perfectly."

Wolfwood looked at his friend. The truth is, most guys their ages were just starting to think about girls and families and their futures… He himself had more than one stirring but he was raised as a priest, and he wasn't even supposed to _think_ about them. Livio on the other hand was merely a tool used by the Eye of Michael, and now that he had rid himself nearly of the alter ego Razlo, he could have chosen to stop traveling with them and settled down somewhere with a pretty girl. Only if he weren't so damn shy about his looks! It wasn't as if girls would care too much about his missing ear or the blue tattoos. Some would probably find it sexy and mysterious…

"Do you think," Livio started as they walked into the grouping of tents; different priests looked up at them as they approached, but those were ones sworn to silence and they merely watched. When they were out of earshot and at their own tent, the big youth continued his thought, "Do you think we'll ever be able to have families of our own someday?"

Nicholas shrugged, "I don't know… I'm not supposed to even think that way, you know."

"I know…"

The priest ducked into the tent and Livio followed, putting his find on the table next to a small lamp to work on in the morning. "But," Wolfwood added after a moment. "I do think it would be nice to be able to find a soft girl to hold and call my own someday." He smiled and noticed the far-away expression on Livio's face as well.

"Someday," Livio murmured, thinking about Jasmine again. He sighed and flopped down on his bed.

"Someday," Wolfwood repeated one last time, then turned out the light.


	5. CH 4 The Assignment

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

**

* * *

****Chapter 4**

**The Assignment**

**Three Weeks Later**

**Stardate: 07-27-0110-11:00**

As excited as Meryl and Milly were their first week after starting work at the Bernadelli Insurance Society, they soon found out the job pertained to much more than exciting adventure in the Outer. It wasn't even exciting at all really… More work, no adventure, and even after Meryl laid down the rules about dating, even she realized that something like that was nearly impossible with their schedules.

Basic training took a lot more time than Mr. Bernadelli had first made it out to be. Even with Meryl's college background it took time to process the numbers, write the reports and file the complaints that came in from time to time. Increasingly, Meryl found herself saddled with more work than she thought fair for a girl her age, and started to realize it was because of the position she and Milly had to fill. But perhaps it was because they just didn't have any leads either. The trail of Vash the Stampede had all but disappeared beneath the sands.

Within the first month of training Meryl discovered how James McPhee and Connor Langhorne died, and found out that their killer was the man they were to search for the moment there were any leads to his whereabouts. The most famous gunman in the Outer, Vash the Stampede, had killed the two Risk Management Agents soon after they picked up his trail in December's twin city of November, a two-week's ride south by Sandsteamer. The insurance agents were no match for this legendary man, and when the dust settled from the incident, there were two dead bodies and Vash was no where to be found. The Bernadelli Insurance Society spent almost a year trying to pick up the tiniest whisper of clues of a lead so that they could send their new stars out into the wild blue yonder.

For months afterwards, Meryl started to wonder about her ability to do such a dangerous job. She wasn't about to be dissuaded so Meryl threw herself completely into her work. From six to eight in the morning she was at the firing range, from nine to five in the office, and from six until nine she took night courses, and then started the whole process over again. Only on Saturdays did she ever allow herself to relax, although most of the time that meant curled up reading a good book, not going out, although Milly did manage to drag her out that once to the movie theater.

A few weeks later and Meryl couldn't even quite recall the name of the movie, but she could recall the man they bumped into with clarity. She used her idle moments to wonder why she had opened up to him so easily and wanted to kick herself for saying anything about their job to him! Although he was awfully handsome and if someone like that… _I'm too busy for a relationship!_ Meryl chastised herself time and time again over those weeks, although she found herself looking for the white-coated man with the blond hair when she walked down the street.

Milly, meanwhile, went through extensive training to improve her skills as a gunwoman. Her strength and size made her perfectly adept at carrying large weapons, but her unwillingness to kill made her a less than perfect field agent. She hesitated, and that was something Meryl couldn't quite pound into Milly's head enough _not_ to do. Thankfully, she was more than willing to knock out human or beast with her stun gun, which gave Meryl ample opportunity to make the kill if need be. Turned out Mr. Bernadelli had seen _that_ in them as well. He did mention wanting to bring in the Stampede alive rather than dead for some reason… Could it be for the bounty that had been placed on his head? Meryl idly wondered if he was hoping to get the bounty himself to make up for all of the money he had lost over the years…

Although Meryl doubted he knew Milly would oftentimes come into the office late after her morning chores on the farm where she still lived on the weekends. Milly, it turned out, hated to be idle and oftentimes would goof off just to have something to do. When it got too aggravating, their boss shuffled her off to do some menial work while he concentrated on Meryl instead, which seemed to suit both girls just fine until the horrible day when a messenger came into the office carrying a package.

Their boss, Mr. Hendricks, called both girls into the office and handed them the manila envelope. "Here you go, girls, your first big break. Vash the Stampede was spotted heading to Valadour."

Meryl glanced up at her friend, eyes wide with emotion; she could call her friend now, because she realized just how much she had come to depend on the big girl not just on the job but with life too. "Well Milly, this is it." She took a deep breath wondering if they were ready, but figured it didn't matter if they were or not, they had to be, it was their job. She gazed at her friend, knowing that Milly was just this side of having a nervous breakdown. She had those often, anytime Meryl mentioned Vash at home where Milly stayed with Meryl at her new apartment that was across the street from where they worked. The little girl reached across and grabbed a hold of Milly's arm, noting the tightness in her muscles.

Grateful for the comforting touch, Milly smiled with her teeth clenched together, her blue eyes watering with fear now that they would have to do the real work, the dangerous work, the work that scared her senseless a year before. She managed to nod, "I knew it was coming eventually."

"Good luck, girls. You've got tickets on the first bus out of the city bright and early tomorrow. You'll catch the sandsteamer in West Barnsdall to November City, pick up where…" He flushed, watching Milly turn white as a sheet. Adjusting his tie he added, "I'll let you two have the rest of the day off to prepare." _And say your goodbyes,_ he thought before shaking both of their hands and ushered them out of the office. Mr. Hendricks' door slammed shut and they heard various locking mechanisms triggered and footsteps of their boss back to his desk. Milly and Meryl looked at one another and then down at the envelope.

"I guess we'd best go down to Research and gather the paperwork we'll be needing," Meryl swallowed, her mouth suddenly gone dry. Milly merely nodded and followed her down to the basement where they sat next to one another at a short, dark table with a desk lamp on it. A few other agents looked up at them as they entered, but otherwise the room was quiet and private. Meryl upended the envelope and found two blurry photos and a few scrawled reports that had, ominously, drops of blood on them. Meryl swallowed the knot forming in her throat and knew Milly was doing the same thing.

"Is that what I think it is?" Milly asked in a thin whisper so her voice wouldn't carry across the room.

"Yeah, I think so," her friend responded. She picked up the report. "Vash the Stampede, as seen in the photos in the red coat," here she handed Milly the blurry photo. "Stand seven eels tall, has blond spiky hair and has been seen carrying a large silver gun."

Meryl glanced at the photos. "These are almost worthless. This could be the guy but then again, it could be any guy…"

"I don't know Meryl, if you squint and turn your head like this…" She trailed off saying something about it looking like the man they ran into a couple weeks before.

"And how could he have gotten down there so fast?" Shaking her head, Meryl continued, "He was seen leaving a tavern in November City with an extremely beautiful youth wearing white."

"You think that's the 'youth'?" Milly asked pointing at a blurry spot next to Vash. "And what does he mean by 'youth' anyway? Is it a girl or a guy?"

"If she's beautiful, must be a girl, he's probably a womanizer," Meryl pointed out, then her eyebrows knotted. "But the shape of the figure looks masculine… I don't get it. Besides, he didn't write any more, and then there's this blood…"

Milly handed her back the photos, "You think the agent died writing this?"

Rolling her eyes, Meryl scooped them all back up into the envelope, "Don't be silly. If he died writing this, then who sent it?" She closed the envelope and wrapped the little string around the knob to keep it shut and stood. "Well Milly, we should get home and pack."

"Okay Meryl," Milly said through chattering teeth, and followed her out.

* * *

**The Outer**

**New Barnsdall**

**Stardate: 07-31-0110-17:00**

The Outer was the area uninhabited by normal folk, the desolate desert that stretched around and between the crash zone of the ancient ships where the roughest and nastiest outlaws spent most of their time. The reason it was named the "Outer" was because of the _out_laws, as Milly and Meryl soon found out the first week after they left the office. All of the rumors were true, but for some reason the two of them had always looked upon it as a glorious adventure, somewhere they could be free of what others thought of them and give them a chance to truly make a name for themselves.

Later that week they were in the Outer, avoiding all number of inhospitable conditions like rogues, thieves, womanizers and worse… Public restrooms. Meryl felt grimy and dirty from traveling on the bus, and when they were able to stop at a hotel for the night both she and Milly took one look at the shower and cringed. How could anyone get clean in something so filthy? It started to dawn on Meryl that she was not going to be able to keep up professional airs as easily as she had in December City stopping at one hotel after another unless she could take a decent shower.

They had to stay in West Barnsdall for a week, waiting for repairs to the Sandsteamer Morphus to be completed. The men in that town were bad, even for being only a few weeks' drive from their beautiful city, but luckily the weather was so hot all they did was sit in the shade drinking beer and catcall. This town was a pit for rogues, and Meryl knew she had to do something in order to keep her sanity until they could get on that shining steamer parked at the edge of the city. So she started to catch up on her paperwork, and sicced Milly on the bathroom.

Milly was only too happy to comply. She went down to the local general store and came back with a sponge and bucket, and the highest power cleaning detergent she could find called "Mildew Typhoon: Wipe out mildew and soap scum instantly!" She disappeared into the bathroom that afternoon and didn't come out for hours.

Meryl was just stapling the last two reports together when Milly shuffled out of the bathroom looking dejected, dropped her bucket and pail, which _were_ new hours ago but looked a hundred years old now and stated, "I lost, Meryl."

With a great sigh, Meryl shoved her papers together into a big envelope, grabbed her purse and motioned for Milly to do the same. "We're going to the office in town and dropping these off."

"Okay Meryl," Milly said brightly. "Maybe we can even pick up something to eat afterwards? I saw an ice cream shop down the way called Banana Boat Bettie's…"

"We'll see," was all her small friend replied as they went out the door.

Walking into the Bernadelli branch office on that second afternoon, Meryl slammed her report down on the front counter and gazed over at two men hunkered down behind rusted metal desks. "I'm Meryl Stryfe." One of them looked up at her with a confused expression, the other ignored her completely. "I'm on the Vash the Stampede assignment," she added a moment later.

"You're _what_?" The first man said, pulling off his spectacles and putting them on the table, "I didn't know they assigned anyone to the case after…you know…"

"Since McPhee and Langhorne died? Yes, we know all about it and the circumstances. _We_ are the new agents assigned to the case," Meryl hitched a thumb over her shoulder at Milly. The tall blond was looking in awe at all of the wanted posters up on the wall, examining in particular the strange photo of a man with spiked blond hair and a goofy grin on his face. She was reading a notice below it that said '_Vash the Stampede storms through the Outer, Bounty Removed after Declared a Localized Disaster.'_

"Milly, get over here," Meryl motioned for her friend and Milly snapped to attention and came over to the counter.

"Hi, I'm Milly Thompson."

The second man, his attention coming a bit slower, stood up and walked over to the counter, putting his hands on the rough wood and eyed the girls. He was about fifty years old himself, salt and pepper hair and dark brown eyes. "I'm Isaiah Harvey head of the West Barnsdall Insurance Branch. Did I hear you two correctly, you're working on the Vash the Stampede case?" Meryl nodded, tapping at the paperwork in front of her impatiently. Isaiah glanced down at them, "What's this?"

"I need this paperwork sent back to the head office. I also need them to be wired that we'll be staying here in town for a short time until the Morphus is repaired." Meryl didn't bother to glance at Milly, but she was sure her younger friend was impressed by her business-like attitude. Heck, she impressed herself by it because Isaiah picked up the papers and handed them to the other man who immediately ran over to the telegraph and started pounding out a message on it.

When Isaiah returned he scratched his head, "Well, I told Frank there to send your message but it may take some time to get a response, where are you staying?"

"Actually that's the next thing I have to discuss," the little girl said. "That hotel isn't worth the double dollars the company is shelling out for it. So we need somewhere else to stay."

"I'm afraid all the hotels and taverns in the area are like that…"

Meryl nodded grimly. "I was afraid of that. Then perhaps you'll be so kind as to be our host for the next few days."

Milly's eyes went wide. "But Meryl…"

Isaiah laughed, "I _will,_ will I? And what if I say no?"

Leaning over the counter, Meryl grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him over to face her nose to nose. She wasn't very strong or very big so she knew he was simply indulging her when he allowed her to pull him down like this, but that's all she needed.

"Smell me," she said under her breath.

Eyes wide, Isaiah swallowed, refusing to take a breath. "Smell me…" Meryl repeated in a harsh growl. The old man complied and his eyes twisted up in his head. Meryl smiled. "I haven't had a shower in almost a _week_…" She let him go and said, "Now do you _really_ want to come between a girl and a decent bath? The fouler I smell the fouler my mood gets."

Isaiah glanced at the big girl, who nodded. "It's true."

"If _that's_ the case…" Isaiah shook his head, "My house is right behind this building," he fished in his pocket and came out with a set of keys. "Make yourselves at home." He tossed the keys to Meryl who snapped them up immediately, nodded in thanks, and made for the door.

"And oh yes, one last thing," Meryl said with the sweetest smile she could muster, "We're going to need more ammo when we leave tomorrow. Is there a shop around here or do you have a stash?" Meryl still didn't like thinking about how many more bullets she would need in the Outer. She had already gone through a small box on the bus ride there. All warning shots… Thankfully she hadn't needed to wound anyone yet.

"There's a store, down the road, next to Sheriff Cayzen's office," the other fellow said, his attention having been on the conversation from the moment Meryl grabbed Isaiah's collar.

Meryl took off out the door without another word and Milly said, "Thank you," as they left. Her eyes were still a bit bugged out when she caught up with Meryl. "Wow Meryl, that was awesome! I wish I had tricks like that up my sleeve!"

"You'll learn what it takes to get your way, Milly, I'll teach you!" Meryl said, grinning. "I really can't decide what to do next, whether to take a shower or go shopping." She thought about it for a moment, "Shopping first, a bath is always good right before bed."


	6. CH 5 Ice Cream & Blue Summers

_Sorry for the long down-time, with conventions, holidays, and all-around craziness, we're finally posting the new chapter! Dwellin and I want to give a special holler to hopeis4ever, AineofKnockaine, and ReadingWhiz - you guys rock! Thanks for reviewing our story and we hope you'll keep enjoying it! To everyone else who hasn't reviewed - please do, if only just to tell us you're reading! We'll give you a shout out too as well as respond to your comments personally. We love to hear all comments. Stay tuned... We're hoping to get back on schedule soon! Milly T & Dwellin_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Ice Cream and Blue Summers**

**New Barnsdall**

**Stardate: 8-7-0110-18:00**

Her favorite food in the entire world was ice cream. Her favorite flavor was called "superman" although why the combination of banana, cherry and raspberry would have such a title, she wasn't quite sure. Of course, not all superman ice cream had those three flavors, some shops colored vanilla ice cream and called it by the same name; as long as they were yellow, blue, and pink, some people thought it was the same thing. But _she_ knew better and after awhile she stopped visiting all other ice cream parlors and ended up going to only this one, where they used real cream from an honest to goodness cow.

Everyone in the ice cream parlor knew her by name. They recognized Marianne by her blond hair and her favorite red duster. Everyone knew that she sat in the first stool near the door, always ordered the same flavor, or, if they were out, she had a running list of flavors she adored. Actually, when she thought about it, she liked just about every ice cream flavor unless it was packed with too many nuts, and then perhaps she would decline, but even a few for flavor were okay in her book. And of course she always had the backup vanilla when needed, adding a bit of chocolate fudge on top, and a sundae was fine and dandy in a pinch!

Ice cream made her mouth water just thinking about it, and on a hot August day it was a more than welcome treat after being in the sun for hours. Luckily, the town was quiet today. The gang members and hoodlums of the town rested in the shade of their hideouts, fanning themselves and drinking beer. No one was in much of a mood to cause a disturbance, and to her, that was quite all right! Being the sheriff of a town like New Barnsdall in the middle of the summer had its advantages. Her occupation kept her busy twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week, but during the hot summer months, it was almost a vacation.

So, when six o'clock rolled around, she wandered down the street, her badge shining merrily on her chest, and strolled into her favorite ice cream parlor. An old faded sign with an ice cream cone on it swung in the very light breeze and said "Banana Boat Bettie's" in peeling yellow letters.

The door tinkled merrily as she breezed in and she held up a hand as she saw the soda jerk behind the counter. "Hey, Jack!"

"Hello, Sheriff!" Jack waved back at her as she came toward the counter. "I've got some new flavors in today unless you want the usual, Marianne," he said merrily. He leaned over the ice cream display as she came to look over the luscious flavors. Pointing out one, and then another with long fingers he said, "Here's what Bettie's calling Moose Tracks… I really wonder where she gets these names, don't you? And this one is Vanillamochalattecappacinochip… She won't let me shorten the name, but it's really good." He smiled and put an elbow on the display, his hand propped up in his palm and looked up at her. "What'll it be, Marianne?"

Marianne eyed the ice cream flavors. She leaned over the counter, taking into consideration her mood, the types of flavors; did she want just sweets or a fruity concoction? Did she want a cone, a cup, a sundae or a shake? So many things to choose from! And the new flavors… Marianne stuck her finger out and pointed to the one with the long name, "I'll take the new one, in a waffle cone." She smiled and Jack nodded vigorously.

The sheriff turned, about to take her position at the counter as usual, and Jack started to say, "I'll get this right up for you and bring it… Oh but," he stopped and Marianne suddenly saw that _someone_ had taken her spot. A frown came to her lips as she saw it was a stranger. "He's got your seat," Jack finished.

"I see that," Marianne said sourly. Way to ruin a perfectly good mood! She walked down to the stool next to the stranger and sat down and eyed him. He wore a white coat and long bangs fell over his face, obscuring his eyes. She couldn't make out much more of him but that he was eating a banana split, strawberries, chocolate, and pineapple slowly, taking one bite of a flavor with a small bit of banana, then moving to the next, and then starting over again. Marianne always ate one flavor at a time saving the chocolate for last.

"Here you go!" Jack smiled and handed her the waffle cone and Marianne took her eyes off the stranger. Jack, who always hit on Marianne any time she came in, put his elbows on the counter and waited for her to take the first bite. She smiled back at him.

He had a crush on her and she had one on him. It had been like this since he first listened to her story about single-handedly stopping a man named Chezar from hoarding all the water in a small town in the outer. She had been offered a dozen positions, even though she was already a member of the Stantal Federal Bureau. Most of them she turned down, but when she came to New Barnsdall and this little ice cream shop, she needed no further consideration of where she'd end up settling down. This was the perfect place for her and she loved the people, even though there was still need of improvement in some areas of the city.

All she waited for now from Jack was a question. She would go out with him, even though she was the sheriff. Perhaps he was just a simple guy, but he was a sweet, kind, _real_ man who had a strong penchant for doing what was right. She looked at his shining brown eyes knowing that she had grown fond of him. Marianne waited patiently for him to make the first move and figured that someday she would marry him and have children and give over her job to the deputy who was a very able man.

Marianne smiled at him and took a lick of her ice cream and her face lit up, "Wow! This is so good!" Jack's face glowed. He smiled and nodded again.

"I thought you'd like it." He continued to watch her until the bell rung at the door and then Jack was off again making a chocolate shake for a cute little newly wed couple with two straws. Marianne sat pondering her ice cream and decided that it more than made up for the stranger who was almost finished with his ice cream but for the last bites of pineapple and strawberry.

He was very clean and methodical, Marianne thought, eyeing him carefully without openly staring at him. She was the sheriff after all, and it _was_ her job to know when people came and went in the town, especially if they were dangerous types. This man, she wasn't quite sure. He had an aura around him, if one were to believe such things, of someone very dangerous, and his taste in ice cream figured him to be a man of a possessive nature. Banana split people wanted it all, but the way he ate it spoke to her that someone or thing was in charge of his life-- he took only a little bit at a time, as if uncertain if he would overstep his boundaries.

When the man finished, he put his spoon in his bowl and carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin. He pushed the empty bowl forward slightly and said, "Sweets were always meant for royalty."

Marianne frowned and looked at him, not quite sure if he was talking to her or not. She was halfway through a lick of her cone when she froze. He was looking directly at her with brown eyes so light they were almost yellow. Slowly she withdrew her tongue and swallowed. "Sugar was expensive in the ancient days of Earth Home," she started awkwardly, "if I recall correctly from my history lessons."

The man nodded, "Only the very wealthy could afford sweets, and many of them flaunted such excess by laying out exquisite buffets of sugared fruits and chilled creams such as the one you are eating." He nodded to her cone, which was starting to drip down onto her fingers. Marianne hastily licked the melting ice cream, but for some reason, she could not take her eyes off of the stranger for long. He had an otherworldly presence to him and his face was extremely beautiful. Although he had a very chilling voice it was sexy, and she couldn't help but want to hear him speak again, hanging onto every word he spoke.

At the same time, it scared the crap out of her. She wanted nothing more than to run out of the ice cream shop and take cover in her basement under a pile of blankets. That would be hard to admit for a woman such as herself, who as a Marshal had seen her share of gunfights and monsters. This man… She felt he could possibly fall under the later category.

"Your taste in ice cream," he added slowly, "if I might comment on such things?" He waited for her to nod, although inside she was screaming _I was doing just the same thing to his ice cream a moment ago!_ He began again, "Your taste in ice cream shows me you are a very open minded individual, you pondered all of the flavors as possible choices, never discrediting one over another. That you chose a new flavor means you like to try new things, but are not gluttonous; others may have had multiple flavors on their cone in order to try them all." He paused as Jack walked by, eyeing the stranger suspiciously, but in a friendly manner, although Marianne could tell he was nervous. She smiled at him and he continued on, she _was_ the sheriff after all; she could take care of herself.

The stranger's eyes fell beneath bangs again. "He loves you very deeply," he said slowly.

"Yes I…" Marianne blinked, her mouth fell open. "WHAT?"

One of his piercing yellow eyes crinkled in delight. "You like him as well… I'm a student of humanity," he continued, "I watch people until I can almost hear what they are thinking." Swinging suddenly on his stool, he extended a hand with long tapered fingers. "My name is Legato Bluesummers."

Marianne eyed his hand, then his face, and switched her cone to her left hand and took his. "_Sheriff_ Marianne Aura Cayzen." His hands were ice cold, she realized, and his grip was like shaking the hand of a skeleton. He removed his hand slowly and eyed his fingers before nonchalantly wiping them on a napkin. Marianne glanced down at her fingers, "Oh sorry, they were still sticky…"

"Not at all," Legato said slowly, a vague smile coming to his lips. "I'm passing through on business today, but maybe being the sheriff you could help me. I suspect you know everything that transpires in this town?" The smile faded from his face and he stared into her eyes, almost as if he were reading every single thing within her mind like an open book. She felt violated by his stare, but for some reason, she could not turn away from his thin nose, his rose lips, and his creamy skin. Suddenly she wished Jack would come back down to their end of the counter. But for some reason, every time he started to turn to come back another customer would come in and he would be occupied once again.

"I keep alert," Marianne said, managing to resume eating her ice cream. "Are you a bounty hunter, is that it? Or maybe one of those Bernadelli people?" Already she had two girls come into town earlier asking her questions. She didn't notice any weapons on his person, nothing threatening but for that icy feel about him. But he didn't seem professional either, not like the girls; she wondered if he would be out of town on the Morphus when it was fixed as well?

Legato closed an eye slightly. "You could say I'm a hunter, but not for any bounty. I have heard a man going by the name of Vash the Stampede has come through these parts recently."

"Vash the Stampede? Why are you looking for him?" Marianne took a bite out of her waffle cone and said with a full mouth, "He came through with a group of men, but they didn't cause any trouble, just stopped at the general store, bought supplies and carried on. I wouldn't have even known it was him if he hadn't stopped to speak to me." Vash, who wore a bright red coat, very much like her own, and a hidden smile, wanted to know if they were headed in the right direction and how long the trip was from her little town to May City. One of his traveling companions came up and called him Vash, otherwise she might never have drawn any conclusions. She felt he may have been hiding something deep in those eyes of his, but otherwise he was friendly to her and not at the outlaw she had heard about. "But the bounty was lifted on him recently, so I had no business with him." It was a shame really, she had been intrigued by him, and to have had the excuse to arrest him would have been appealing to her.

When she finished speaking, the stranger stood. He startled Marianne who nearly fell off her stool. She managed to correct herself when Bluesummers extended a hand to her. "I would like it very much if you showed me which direction he went."

The look in his eyes seemed to tell Marianne he already knew even though she had not told him where he was headed. But suddenly she found herself standing, almost as if she had no control over it. Then, in the same manner, she took his hand and followed him out into the warm sunshine, still holding her ice cream. Marianne opened her mouth to speak, moving her head back over her shoulder to look back at Jack, but the soda jerk was busy with customers. She frowned. _What's going on? I don't want to go with this guy!_ Marianne opened and closed her mouth multiple times, meaning to tell Legato exactly what she thought, but found herself unable to.

In fact, she was helpless to do anything but follow along with him, hand in hand, her ice cream melting and dripping through the bottom of the waffle cone down her fingers. _Where are we headed? And why am I going with him?_ Her eyes were wide, and now she felt panicked, she looked at him… His outfit had changed. Why hadn't she seen the skull and crazy spikes on his shoulder? She felt sick with fear. The stranger didn't even seem to notice, he walked down the street without a care in the world until they reached the local tavern at the edge of town. Marianne knew this place to be one of the shadier ones, dealing with hookers from time to time if the patron had enough money, although she had never been able to catch them at it.

But why was he bringing her… _Oh my Go…_ Marianne's eyes were frozen open in fear, was he taking her here to do something to her? What was going on? She tried to open her mouth, to say something to the man at the counter; his name was Bubba if she remembered correctly… He merely smiled and waved at them as they passed as if nothing were amiss. _What _isn't_ amiss here! I'm the bloody Sheriff! What would I be doing with a guy in a place like this!_

They came to a door in the darkest hallway. The numbers were long gone off the door, but Marianne could tell it once was number twenty-seven, the impression of the numbers were faded in the paint. Legato didn't hold up a hand to knock, neither did he open his mouth to speak, but the door squeaked open slowly, the chain still on the door and one electric green-blue eye peered out at them. "What are you…"

Marianne frowned; no other man had eyes like that, was this…? No, this was definitely not Vash the Stampede, although there was no denying he had the same eyes. But these were so much _colder_… She felt goosebumps rise on her skin just looking at the fraction of his face through the door. The man eyed Legato and then he said, "What have you brought, Bluesummers?"

"A gift," Legato said frugally. "I wish to speak to you."

The door shut suddenly and there was a scrambling before it opened to reveal a half-naked man wearing only black boxer shorts. He leaned one arm on the doorframe, the other draped over the top of the door was hidden but she could see he held a beer bottle in it. He was really tall; his lithe body glistened with sweat. The room beyond was dark, as if he tried to keep cool by keeping it pitch black. With the light from the hallway she could see a large fan was propped by the covered window, humming noisily, aimed at a messy bed. The floor was covered in empty bottles, but a couple dozen more sat on the dresser next to the fan. Clothes were spread over the floor; some, Marianne was sure, were not his own, but some female long gone.

"Who's she?" The stranger took his hand away from the doorframe to run it through soaked blond hair. Marianne wondered if it was from sweat or from keeping it wet to cool off. Apparently this man was taking the heat of the city hard. "She's not one of the girls I've been keeping an eye on… Hot, and definitely my type perhaps…"

Legato waited for the stranger to move, his face was unreadable but for one emotion: _hate_. He really _hated_ this man with the strange scars on his long frame and his bizarre aqua eyes. Marianne almost wanted to concur, but for some reason, she felt that of two evils, the stranger was the lesser. But she couldn't manage to open her mouth to say anything! No matter how hard she tried.

"She can't talk, can she?" The stranger frowned, stepped back into the darkened room. He waved behind him, "Bring her in, I don't want to make a scene." Legato lead her into the room and closed the door behind them quietly. Marianne could hardly see the stranger as he plopped down into the bed, sprawled out in the covers and took a long swig of his beer. "Now that you've got my attention, spill it." He was obviously inebriated, Marianne could tell from the sound of his voice and the smell in the air. Although, come to think of it, all of the hotels were like this in the area. She would probably have to speak to the mayor about cleaning up the town…

"My Master…" Legato started slowly.

"The way you say that gives me the creeps," the man snapped at him. "Say Knives if you must use a name." He patted the bed. "Come here, beautiful." Marianne's eyes went wide as her feet stepped forward and she sat down in the bed next to the stranger. He wrapped his arm around her, the one with the beer bottle, and it felt overly muscled and incredibly heavy on her shoulder. She could smell he was completely doused in beer. Marianne had a feeling the wet hair was from liquor as well. One match and the whole man would have disappeared in a bright ball of flame. _I'd give my ice cream cone for a match right now!_

"Knives… I have found out where your brother is headed. This woman here has seen him." Legato's face was still sour.

Knives, as Marianne assumed his name was, looked her in the face, as if digesting every detail. His eyes traveled below her face, to her neck, then down to her chest. He tipped the beer bottle so that the neck touched the gold star on her lapel. "You're the sheriff." He wasn't asking, by the slight lift of the corners of his lips he said it as if that amused him for some reason.

"Yes… I… I can talk!" Marianne blinked. She hazarded a glance to Legato, but a beer bottle and icy wet fingers touched her cheek and she was forced to look at Knives again. "I am, and I'll have you know I can have you arrested for abducting…"

"I know all of that, thank you," he said slowly. "Don't worry, I have no intention of doing anything to you, although you would be a fine lay I'm quite sure…" Knives eyes traveled lower and Marianne felt sullied by his hungry stare. Legato coughed nearby and the blond man looked over to him. "I'm not interested in your snide comments," he hissed. "Keep them to yourself, Bluesummers."

Legato bowed. Marianne looked from one man to the other, it was almost as if they were having a conversation between them, but without saying a word. Her attention went back to Knives. "What do you want from me?"

"Is my brother well?" Knives asked, seemingly concerned. "Vash the Stampede, you've seen him?"

"He was fine," Marianne replied. _And not a pig like you! _It was curious that the notorious outlaw had any family, they didn't really seem anything alike aside from their similar features.

The stranger smiled, and took his arm off of her and took her melted ice cream cone. She'd completely forgotten about it and it had formed a puddle on the floor. And was sticky and soft, oozing through her fingers. Knives dropped the soggy cone in the waste and pulled her sticky hand to his lips. He licked one of her fingers as she watched him in horror; _Filthy pig!_ she thought, then, suddenly tiring of the game when she showed nothing but disgust with him, wiped her hand with one of the blankets.

_I wish I could arrest him for being a jerk! _She thought, finding she couldn't speak again.

"I'm glad to hear it. Apparently I was correct in following those insurance agents, they certainly know what they're doing." He paused, looking at Legato again. A few moments passed and then he added, "I'm very sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Sheriff, but Bluesummers…" He moved his eyes to look at her again, "His talent at manipulating those around him, and reading minds… It's a talent I've found useful from time to time, even though he hates me for not showing my appreciation duly." There must have been a rebuff from the yellow-eyed man, and Knives laughed. "Oh yes, I forget, it's not quite my _appreciation_ he wants… But he can't kill me or he'll lose all chances at his redemption."

"Our conversation…" Legato started suddenly, he was hushed when Knives lifted his beer.

"It's rude to carry on a conversation that the lady cannot be a part of," Knives retorted. He stood suddenly, although Marianne found she could not move from the spot. _What in the world is going on? _She found it disturbing, but her eyes were focused still on these two men. There was an uneasiness around them she found intriguing. Two handsome men discussing strange things she could not even _begin_ to comprehend. The stranger spun on his heel, "I'm sorry you were dragged into this, but I find the information more than useful."

"But I haven't said…" Marianne closed her mouth; she really hadn't said anything useful, had she? Had Bluesummers really read her mind? She shook her head, and a hand grabbed hers and she was lifted from the bed to her feet. Marianne stared into the man's chest, although in the darkness she had to squint to see his face as she tilted her head to look at him. He was smiling in a possessive manner. "If we are done here, I should go," she said finally.

Knives nodded, "Of course."

Her feet started to move, at first of their own as she left the room. The door slammed behind her and she walked down the hallway until suddenly she regained control again and stopped. Marianne blinked, shivered, and grabbed her gun. _What the hell just happened?_ She cocked the gun and turned on her foot. _I'm not just some pushover they can use however they want! I was a Marshall, and just because now I'm the sheriff of this town the demotion doesn't change a thing!_ Her heart told her she should run, but her head told her she had to go back and arrest the two men. Something wasn't right; she was kidnapped by two complete strangers, and raped mentally… Although how, she wasn't sure she could prove it at the courthouse, but she'd damn well find some other charge to lock them up with! With gun in her hand, she went back down the hallway to the door with the missing numbers and slammed her foot into it.

The sound was deafening, the wood molding splintered and exploded and Marianne jumped into the room, "Freeze! Sheriff!"

Gun out in front of her, Marianne waited for the two men to look up at her startled at her return… Only to find, there _were_ no men. She swallowed, frowning, looking around at a completely empty room. "What the hell…?" Marianne moved into the room, her gun following her gaze, each corner, each nook, each cranny but they were gone. The fan was gone, the beer bottles were gone, the bed was clean, the room looked as if it had never been touched! Marianne's eyes went wide, and she turned to look at the door… The numbers were hanging on the door, Twenty-seven, clean shining brass numbers.

The sheriff stumbled out into the hallway. No, there was no mistake, this was the last door… This was the room… She peered in again. _But I was only gone for a second!_ Marianne shivered. Suddenly she wanted to be somewhere else… Yes, somewhere far, far away… Ice cream, yes, that's what she needed. Marianne stumbled down the hallway… But she could swear she heard musical laughter follow her out into the street. And later on she realized the room was _too_ clean for a hotel room in the town, as if it were merely an illusion.

* * *

Knives sat in his bed, a new bottle in his hand. He'd watched the sheriff come and go, completely unaware they were still within the room. Her confusion utterly amused him. _'You do good work, I'll give you that,' _he thought, hoping Legato picked up on his thoughts. Knives himself had never been able to transmit psychically, but Legato was more than apt at carrying on conversations using his powers alone. Although, Legato seemed to be ignoring him at the moment and didn't look at him until long after the woman had disappeared a second time.

Knives waved to the full bottles near the fan, "You want something to drink?" Legato shook his head. The stranger shrugged. "Suit yourself, more for me." He tipped back his bottle and felt the alcohol warm his system and drown some of the blistering heat from the outside and numb the pain in his head.

"We still have business to attend to…"

"No, I don't think so." Knives sat up in bed and waved his left hand at the door, "You really pulled a number on that one. She was hot, very much my type." He smiled, "Thank you for the amusement, but I'm eager to return to my…"

"You should be ashamed…" Bluesummers spat. Knives' eyes went wide as the yellow-eyed man sneered, "You're a disgrace to your species, to your brother…"

Knives stood from the bed, threw his bottle at the wall, "You have no right to speak to me that way!" He growled at Legato, who did he think he was? Who was the master here? Who was a superior being? Not Bluesummers! Not a piece of garbage that could have been thrown out long years before without even a name to be remembered by! He stood from the bed, feeling his power prickle along his arms.

"You're so easily angered…"

The blond lunged and wrapped his hands around Legato's sinewy neck. "You have not outlived your usefulness… But you're getting _very_ close Bluesummers. Your undying hero-worship has made you undesirable to even those who most…" He squeezed the man's throat tighter, but Legato did not seem to be affected. Instead he started to smile. Knives' eyes narrowed. "You're a dog, tied by the throat, unable to kill those who torment him."

"I feel no torment, but I wish for release…" Legato's teeth showed now, his smile grew wider. "Release me… Kill me, that is what I most desire…"

Knives thrust him away, and he slammed into the wall. Legato staggered, but kept his feet and fell into a deep bow. "As you wish… I shall trouble you no further… Although, my warriors shall no longer be at your disposal… I shall carry on the mission alone if I must." His eyes shot to a dark corner, "Although _you_ may do whatever you wish…" The smile remained on his face and he took his leave.

A snarl reached the blond's lips at the exit of Legato, "I've made up my mind; I'm going on the sandsteamer… I'll find my brother without Legato's help now that I have those girls. But I need you to follow him, get to the others first…" he said into the air. He turned and nodded to a dark corner. "Crimson Nail, bring the Beast, I have a job for him."

"As you wish," Elendira said with a deep bow as she came out of the shadows.


	7. CH 6 The Sandsteamer Pt 1

_Another long delay... sorry everyone! Cold season, snow, new jobs and trip-bound husbands have kept things at a very slow pace for writing this month. Hopefully we'll have the second part of this chapter up within the week. Thanks again for the reviews, AineofKnockaine, Hopeis4Ever, ReadingWhiz89 and Beboots!Soon we'll be putting up an artgallery for fan-art fromDwellin (Sunsilver) and myself Milly Ton my Trigun site, so keepyour eyes peeled! Now... onto the story!_

_(There's been one edit since the first posting of this chapter - FYI)_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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_

**Chapter 6**

**The Sandsteamer**

**Part I**

**Stardate: 08-15-0110-9:00**

Meryl was mumbling again. Milly sighed. Meryl was no fun when she was on the track of putting clues and facts together. She looked over at her friend, who now wore a deep frown drawing her brows together. Using a ruler, charts, several maps, and a book of timetables along with copies of every report Bernadelli had ever received on the activities of Vash the Stampede, Meryl was working out a theory of her own. After reading the current one on the Stampede, Meryl snorted her disgust and threw away every old report made of mere conjectures and ragged rumors.

At the moment the tip of her tongue was sticking out the side of her mouth as she worked a complex computation on a piece of scratch paper. At odd moments she would either emit a self-satisfied chuckle or a grunt of frustration.

In the beginning, when they were first ushered into the suite, Milly thought it was really nice of the Bernadelli Insurance Society to provide them with the suite that was the property of the company. However, after some reflection she decided that the circumstances that brought it about were rather on the strange side.

Curiously enough, it was Mr. Bernadelli who insisted that they travel by Premium Class when he was informed that she and Meryl already purchased third class tickets for the Morphus on their way to November City. After Meryl brought Mr. Bernadelli up to speed on all of their future plans; as he insisted they report to him directly when they were in town from then on, he acted scandalized that they were planning on traveling by third class. No agents of their status would ride in third class! He would reprimand their superior, Mr Hendricks, immediately! Especially since they were riding a sandsteamer he himself owned! He had the tickets wired to them and they were ushered onboard like queens… Or at least princesses. It was interesting all right, since no one ever used the golden sandsteamer pass but Mr. Bernadelli and members of his immediate family.

Neither girl was bothered by having to travel the cheaper way. It was more distressing to them that Bernadelli spent more money than necessary on the most expensive type of transport available, just for them! Perhaps it was a special assignment, but neither girl felt they had yet earned the privilege as they had yet to prove themselves in the field. As far as she was concerned, Meryl was just fine riding by tomas if they needed to, and Milly had a feeling they would later on when the sandsteamer and bus routes eventually disappeared and they no longer had to report to Bernadelli as often. Both girls had an odd feeling that there was some kind of ulterior motive behind Bernadelli's peculiar behavior on the issue.

Upon arriving at the room, Milly had flitted around at the suite nervously, thinking it extravagant for two working nobody girls such as themselves to be allowed to travel in Premium Class. After Milly got over her wide-eyed wonder, she began staring around suspiciously. Meryl only stated in a flat voice that it just went to prove how very important it was to the company that they find this Vash guy and curtail his destructive tendencies. Even though that was how Meryl tried to look at it, upon her first glimpse of their their opulent and plush suite, Milly wasn't as convinced and the fact that each of them had a bedroom and a bathroom just seemed more of bribe than a reward.

Looking around now at their luxurious suite, Milly's doubts about their assignment increased ten-fold. Although she _said _that it was a normal gesture on the part of the company, Meryl's eyes had narrowed as she scanned the room so that Milly knew her friend was developing her own doubts about the honor being bestowed upon them. The two friends had exchanged a look that spoke volumes. Who were they to be allowed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see how the upper crust lived?

Reaching up to finger the bronze tassel of the metallic braided rope holding back the _real_ velvet curtain, the unease of earlier resurfaced. The first day she had perched awkwardly on the edges of all the chairs afraid of crushing the fabric or getting it dirty. Finally she kept to the bench by the window and avoided the silk-covered cushions altogether unless she was fresh out of the shower in one of the fluffy white bathrobes the steward provided. And even then she hated to touch anything, afraid of leaving fingerprints.

Turning to study the countryside that was flying past her window, she noted that it was the same as it was a minute ago, an hour ago and even a day ago. The monotony was wearing even on her good nature.

"Milly, please stop that, it's annoying!"

She practically jumped out of her skin. Milly's eyes whipped toward Meryl but her friend was still hunched over the table littered with papers. However, it was astonishing as this was the first time Meryl had spoken in hours! Even if it was a rebuke. All morning had been spent scrutinizing the reports and maps, her petite finger following routes, markings, schedules, lines, and numbers that Milly could only guess at.

The blond blinked at her friend and then down at her hand. Sure enough, unknowingly, she had been tapping out a rhythm on the lower half of the pane.

Throwing Meryl an apologetic look, she said, "Sorry, Meryl, it's just that I am so bored."

Lifting quizzical, slightly unfocused eyes, the dark-haired agent, blinked and stared at her partner as if noticing her for the first time that morning. Since before sunrise she had been up pouring over the testimonies and accounts placed alongside a corresponding map marking all the Humanoid Typhoon sightings. If Meryl was correct, and she believed she was, there were more sightings than one man could humanly account for. If all of the reports weren't exaggerations that is. It was hard trying to weed out what was true since every tale had some stupendous, unbelievable account of what was supposed to have happened. She was beginning to wonder if some of the reports were filed by crackpots, but no, she had done some checking on backgrounds and most of the claims were turned in by upstanding citizens of that town. Like the last one in New Barnsdall for instance, the Sheriff had been most helpful, even if she did give them a mysterious warning that they should be very careful. She leaned back, yawned and stretched. Something wasn't adding up and she was going to figure it out if it was the last thing she did.

Meryl blinked again clearing the haze from her eyes as it began to dawn on her just what it was that Milly had just said.

"I'm so sorry Milly, I didn't mean to ignore you," she started, until her eyes took on a slightly fanatical gleam which Milly had become very familiar with of late. "I think I'm on to something here but I want to make sure before I share it with you." She gave her friend an impish grin. "You know how I hate to be wrong."

Milly nodded. The amazing thing was, Meryl was rarely wrong. Which, now that she thought about it, was probably why Meryl hated it when she _was _wrong. Not that Milly ever had a chance to correct her on anything, because Meryl was always thumping herself over the head when she caught herself making a mistake.

Looking around the cabin, Meryl spied a small pile of books Mr. Harvey gave them on their way out of West Barnsdall. "Here." She reached over and grabbed two of them and thrust them at Milly. "You read these and give me a summary of what's in them. That will save me all sorts of trouble and time."

Milly reluctantly took the books, eyeing them with misgiving. Her hobby was writing the 'Milly Monthly'. Or at least doing some kind of physical labor… Even at home she kept busy, but this sitting around reading and such, it was just so boring! She felt like her body would turn to fudge from this soft lifestyle if she didn't get active soon. Reading was never high on her list of favorite things to do, but if it would help Meryl out, she would try to maintain a cheerful attitude in midst of adversity.

"Okay, Meryl," she said, her voice heavy with resignation as she opened up to the first page of the book titled, 'Vash the Stampede, Man or Demon?' A quick look at the other book title let her know that it wasn't going to get any better. 'Vash the Stampede, Rogue and Legendary Breaker of Hearts.' She uttered a small groan. She was sure the books were going to be filled with lurid falsehoods, speculations, and smut; she grumbled under her breath, probably all based on rumor too.

Over the edge of the top of the book she gave her friend a dark look, the first ever since they had met. It figured that Meryl would make Milly read the barely credible stuff. _I always get the grunt work, _thought Milly glumly as she opened up the cover to the first page of what was obviously a hastily produced book. The first line read... _'As the smoke cleered, we saw him for the first time, the bright demon of July. His bright red coat a splash of blood against the bright blue sky. He towered over the cringing townsfolk pearched atop the rubble, hands on hips and bright blond head thrown back in eval laughter while greedily eyeing the more beautiful women of the town with bright lecherous eyes...'_ The author misspelled 'clear' and 'perched' while spelling 'lecherous' correctly? And what was the fascination with the word 'bright'? Milly could have cried.

When she glanced over at Meryl again, her partner was happily jotting down a fresh set of notes, humming pleasantly to herself. Milly wondered how much longer it was before lunchtime.

* * *

In the equally luxurious suite adjoining the one owned by the Bernadelli Insurance Society sat the man assuming the identity of Count Revenant of Augusta. Each of the seven major cities had counts at one time or another, men who crash-landed on the planet with all of their fortunes intact, meaning, control of the plants and those technicians who survived. Or made their fortunes with the knowledge they had of the now termed "lost technology." Many of the titles were passed down over the years until most people didn't even know the generation they came from or even what the men looked like. Vasquez of July was the only one famous enough to remain a household name after his supposed murder by Vash the Stampede.

However, the count of Augusta made a name for himself by being a strangely opulent count that appeared from time to time over the years having amassed a huge fortune with servants and property all over the planet. In recent years he would come and go giving much needed aid to cities in dire need after a visit from the Humanoid Typhoon. It was really the most ingeniously excessive ruse anyone had ever pulled off in the history of Gunsmoke, seconded only by Vasquez's rise to fame and glory from inexistence. The current count of Augusta smirked and thought to himself, _I do so love assuming an identity of an icon of virtue. So many unsuspecting sheep waiting to be taken advantage of as they welcome you with outstretched arms,_ the count thought with a smirk that morning.

It was as good of a disguise as one could get since no one argued that he wasn't the real count what with all the money in his possession. Of course simpletons believed him to be the richest person on the planet when he waved enough cash at them. But he was careful not to show himself too widely. Even when he (or his social secretary) organized relief efforts and was the impetus behind the fund, he remained behind the scenes not showing his face but to his faithful few employees. When one had money, one didn't need a face.

His boarding had taken very little finagling due to the ancestral seal of office handed down in the Revenant family. Ancestral seal indeed! He snorted. Why anyone believed whatever they were told without checking a person's authenticity was beyond him. It didn't matter who it was as long as they possessed the traditional fancy trappings and said all the right words in some strange old dialect no one could understand anymore. The real count had of course given it to him, free of charge, to use however he pleased, and right at the moment, he was quite pleased with the current arrangement. It was one of the perks he enjoyed as the master of a baker's dozen of soldiers who had everything at their fingertips. However, he wondered offhandedly how many of those soldiers he would be able to keep…

Being one of the few that knew the real count's secret, the tall, slender _fake_ count was able to make it work in his favor. At the time of boarding, he had reached beneath his black, voluminous long coat and pulled out a velvet bag. Out of the bag he pulled out a priceless mahogany box. That alone got the attention of the boarding steward. What he handed to the steward was worth a king's ransom. Yet what was inside was worth a planet's ransom

Upon opening the seal tucked into a green satin cushion, the steward in charge of the boarding list gaped like a fish and then personally escorted the count to his room along with three other attendants. There was much fawning and bowing from the inferior breed. Just the way he liked it. His own servant remained with the car, sending a young man along instead, carrying his more precious bags. Revenant had bid the young man adieu soon after the sandsteamer was underway, but the boy was never far away in case the Master should have a use for him.

Reclining on the chaise lounge seated next to the wall between the two suites, the tall, slender and handsome man taking the count's place stretched out his long, lean frame while sinking into the silk and velvet cushions with a contented sigh. He was well-matched to the surroundings as if he were born and bred to them. A fiendish glint flickered in the depths of cold eyes that were a stark contrast in an otherwise attractive face, as he took another sip out of the fluted champagne glass on the table next to him. The only thing lacking was a bed companion, but maybe, with a glance at the wall next to him, something could be done about that. Then he made a face, wondering if it would be worth it. _Mostly likely those two are the 'married-to-their-work' virgins type_.

He looked down at the outfit he had on currently. If he wanted to seduce either one, he knew he couldn't do it wearing what he had on; it was too unconventional and would provoke comment. Lots of them, especially from the sharp-eyed elf dressed all in white. Even though he was pretending to be a rich scion of a noble and illustrious family, he wasn't wearing the expected formal trappings or anything that could lead one to think he was from the aristocracy. Instead, he was covered in a white and crimson jumpsuit like the ones used from the old days of space travel. Pieces of white leather armor covered vital areas of his body and though they looked like they would be more of a hindrance than help, when he moved every gesture spoke of smooth flowing grace. It was custom made to fit him perfectly by the best tailors and gunsmiths Gunsmoke had to offer. He rolled his eyes, _oh yeah; the height-impaired, opinionated one would definitely be asking questions. _He doubted she would be easily fooled like the others, even if he did show up for dinner in the official robes of aristocracy. That was one reason he tried to stay below her radar. She would ask penetrating questions he didn't want to answer, yet, her tall friend who seemed to see nothing, yet watched everything childlike eyes over a cheery smile, seemed to hone in on him every time they were in a room together. Maybe it was his imagination, after all, when he showed up in a room, servers came from all corners to attend to his every wish.

The first day he arrived, and the attendants had left, the Count looked around taking stock of his living arrangements with a slight frown. Spotting the chaise lounge near the window he had immediately moved it next to the wall between rooms. He already knew who his neighbors were, as his servants made sure to know who was berthed on the same floor with him. Sure he was paranoid, but it worked for him. Rarely was he ever taken by surprise by anyone. It paid to know who was in one's near vicinity.

He grinned again, despite any danger of his disguise being penetrated, it was fun playing the game with them even if he was only picking up a tidbit here and there from their conversations.

He also knew that if the two insurance girls were close to the wall, then he would be able to sense their presence with greater ease. From time to time when the sandsteamer drove through smooth ground, he could even hear their voices. The Count had been keeping tabs on them since meeting them in December although he was careful to keep out of sight. However, this was getting boring, and today he had decided to make an appearance, and, perhaps if he was lucky, pick up some new information on the whereabouts of his brother.

However, at the moment he was resting, whipcord thin and wiry length relaxed deep into the thick cushions of the sofa. Already it was ruined at the foot; his heavy boots made small tears in it the very first day, which only deepened each time he reclined on it. He preferred to sleep on it rather than one of the beds as it was the only piece of furniture in the whole seven-room suite that was long enough to stretch out on and he took full advantage of it. After all, the Count could well afford any piece of furniture that took his fancy.

Glancing over at the one all-important displays of his wealth, a sly grin slid across his face. The mahogany handle matched the same wood of the box._ I love being rich. Note to self, use this disguise more often. _His lips parted in a mirthless chuckle as he picked up the seal and rolled it back and forth between long nimble fingers.

The window shade was pulled down so the only light in the suite was that eking in around the edges giving the room a gloomy air. His eyes gleamed blue in the darkened suite as the chuckling escalated into mocking laughter. It was deeply gratifying at how many game pieces he was managing to gather against his brother, 'the Stampede'. At first he had expected this little trip to be one of unending boredom, and up to now that was what he had gotten. However, he decided that it was time to have a little fun with his current game pieces. He decided to check in on his latest pawns.

Rolling his head to the side, he stared at the wall between the rooms, his eyes glazing over as he concentrated. It amused him to no end that they were on the hunt for the Humanoid Typhoon, Vash the Stampede, and their biggest clue to finding him was sitting not eels away from them. If they only knew! For a few seconds he closed his eyes to listen with a sharp ear and reached for the hint of their presence. With a grunt of satisfaction he noted they were still in their room, their presence giving off a soft and gentle hum in his mind, but then drew his eyebrows together in a frown as the hum changed in tenor and frequency. They were stirring themselves to leave the room.

His thoughts came back around to the one person that this whole sham was being played out for. Everything he did now, had done for years, and would continue to do, was to bring torment to one person only. The same one who suspected him of being at the center of the web but was also unable to do anything about it. The one he would get his revenge on very soon!

It was ever so enjoyable being the spider spinning line upon line to build the trap. Who would believe the confused ravings of the man known as Vash the Stampede? Who would trust the word of a known killer claiming that he was innocent of all these atrocities that kept happening when he was around?

The beauty, the crowning touch was the amnesia. He couldn't have foreseen that but it made the play so much more entertaining to watch as time went on. The Count himself suspected his brother's amnesia was almost purposely prolonged, as if he _tried_ to forget what had happened during the destruction of the Third City.

"Time for you to try and elude my web once again _dear _Brother... if you can."

Shadows grew sharper as his eyes began glowing with illuminating radiance; the room was as light as if the window shade were raised to let the beams of the sun stream in unhindered. The blue intensified as they gleamed more brilliantly with each passing second until it exploded in climax before fading back into darkness. Revenant managed to gain mastery of his power and pulled it back into the seed positioned in his forearm.

Panting from the expenditure of energy the tall man looked down in surprise. Opening his hand he found the handle of the seal snapped in two. He had forgotten he was holding it. He eyed it for a moment. _Damn it._ The value of the seal was the fact of it being in one piece. Whenever damage came to one of the seals of the ancestors, it was useless. A new one had to be made. Though that meant the seal itself was worthless now, however, the end could be reattached for a fair price in the trading town at the end of the line. He placed the important part of the seal in a pocket and tossed the remainder across the room. Not even looking where he was throwing the broken head it sailed in an arc to land in the trashcan.

His lips tightened in a cold smile as he stood up and moved to retrieve the long dark coat from the closet. He slipped his arms into the sleeves and buttoned the trench coat down to the waist where the buttons ended, however the rest of the coat hung down to his ankles, flaring out at the bottom as if lifted by an unseen breeze. The coat came from the real count, although the fake count thought it looked much better on himself.

After smoothing down the material, he was once again pleased with the secret of the special plant-facility cloth that only three other people even knew about. The count moved over to the genuine wood roll-top desk and retrieved a small plastic case. Most people were unable to afford the price of these two small curved contacts; they were made with lost technology and price he paid for them was exorbitant. Fortunately, he had the wealth with which to purchase them and had picked them up in November City for just such an occasion as this. Flipping one side of the case open, he fished out a colored contact. Grabbing the eye solution, he liberally squeezed out several drops into each contact before he placed them on his eyes.

He detested this part of the disguise because when they were first placed on his cornea they stung for a few seconds making his eyes water terribly, nevertheless it was necessary. Opening his eyes he stepped to the side and looked in the small mirror hanging on the wall next to the desk. Perfect. His eyes were now a rich, warm brown. A feral grin widened his mouth. A warm, _trusting _brown, he decided.

After blinking a few times at his image to make sure the contacts would stay in place, he ran his hands over his slicked-back hair, which was pulled into a tight ponytail at the base of his neck. It was long now, grown out especially for this disguise and newly dyed a deep black which gave his face a pale, almost ashen look. The day before when in the same observation car as the insurance girls, a little girl declared that he looked just like a vampire before the mother gave him an apologetic smile, which immediately turned into one of apprehension when she saw the dark scowl on his face. With a bare word and averted face she whisked her daughter away from the intimidating man.

Staring at the reflection of his half-grin while a black eyebrow ascended his brow in a haughty manner, he decided the little girl was right. He turned his face first one way and then another; he did appear similar to a creature of the night. Although he could see himself in the mirror; which was the only argument one could make for him being a mortal.

"A mortal." His mirror twin said to him before the corners of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. A human! That was the best disguise of all.

He tilted his head, listening as an alert ear picked up the sound of a door being opened and then shut in the next room over. The lovely ladies were exiting their suite. Like a fluid shadow the lithe form of the count flowed noiselessly across the room to the door. He wanted to learn more about these naive, inexperienced girls before he ripped their innocence from them in one way or another--well, after they led him to his desired goal of course! _Puppets are wonderful thing, especially the living kind. It makes toying with them all the more delicious and entertaining._

Opening the door slowly so they didn't realize that they were being watched, the Count peered down the narrow hall and saw the two insurance girls walking away from him in single-file. The little one was in the lead talking rapidly and gesturing while the taller one nodded as she followed. They were perfect, young, green, and delectably untainted. They were each exceptionally attractive too, although he was beginning to notice, with some surprise and amusement that lately his attention kept straying to catch a glimpse of the smaller, raven-haired one. Something about her...

There! They were gone, having exited out the door at the end of the hallway. It led into the observation lounge where the elevators were situated. Only the people owning the suites in this class were allowed to use them. He wasn't worried about hurrying after them, after all, where could they go on a speeding sandsteamer out in the middle of nowhere? Besides, his underling was stationed down in the dining room, which was the only logical place to go when it was lunchtime.

The form of the count floated down the hall like a midnight apparition of the witching hour rather than that of an ordinary man. He glided quietly with cat-like grace in the girls' trail. His slim figure arrived at the door and he reached for the door handle...

...Completely taking him by surprise was the door banging open coming within a hair of flattening his face. He crammed himself into the corner and caught the door by the edge in order to hide behind it in case one of them should turn and look behind them.

"I swear, Milly, you would forget your nose if it weren't attached." Meryl huffed out indignantly.

Milly followed, reaching up to touch the tip of her nose and looking down cross-eyed at it for a second. "You forgot yours too Meryl." Milly pointed out, unfazed by Meryl's comment when her friend looked at her with an exasperated expression. She lowered her hand.

Meryl stopped at their door and inserted the key. As the door swung open she looked up at her tall friend and said, "You're right of course, I am just as much to blame... I'm normally the one who carries the pass card" Her words were cut off as the door swung shut behind them.

Revenant released the pent up breath he had been holding, thankful that neither girl had looked his way or else they might have spied his fingertips keeping the door from closing. He released it immediately and darted back down the hall to his room and swiftly entered. There were no hiding places in this corridor, and he didn't want either girl to get the idea that he was interested in their business.

Again he heard their door open. He grimaced. This was beginning to remind him of a bad comedy and there was no way that he was going to be cast as the bumbling, inept villain of the piece trying to take advantage of two beautiful, yet oblivious heroines. Usually those heroines got caught but they always seemed to get saved by some dashing hero… _I don't like where this is heading, besides, I hate heroes, definitely overrated._

Once more, he opened his door a crack to watch the receding backs of the two girls. The tall one, yet again following in the wake of the smaller one, was listing off for her shorter companion what she was going to order for lunch. He wasn't sure but it looked like the dark-haired one was pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand while reaching for the door handle with the other.

He should have been annoyed but, if truth be told, this was the first time in a long time he was actually enjoying himself. It was like some elaborate child's game. It was certainly a worthwhile diversion from the ever-present threat of terminal boredom, all this dodging about and keeping from being discovered while in plain sight. Already the girls had sat near him twice in the observation room, once in the lounge, and another time in the dining car the tall one was close enough to ask him to please pass her the salt.

They didn't have a clue as they talked about the Humanoid Typhoon that one of his closest acquaintances sat right next to them! A mental chuckle rolled through his head. No one could have heard the sound but as the little female was opening the door for her partner to go through she cast a puzzled glance over her shoulder. He pulled his face back in disbelief. There was no way she could have heard anything, he knew not a whistle of breath had passed through his lips!

He swore softly. At first he had found the shorthaired one merely interesting, then a potential threat with her latching onto a problem like a pit bull and refusing to let go, then after the first couple of days, appealing, until he finally admitted that she was the most compelling female he had run across in ages.

He kept telling himself that she wasn't his type, which usually meant 'willing'. Also, he usually liked them a bit more endowed, like her friend. He was surprised at himself because he started out studying the tall one, pondering her qualifications for a future bedmate, as blonds tended to have a reputation of being a bit ditsy and thus easier to get into bed. But recently, blonds were becoming less and less appealing to him, something to do with the servant he had acquired lately and managed to leave behind during this trip. He tried not to think about her too much...

Even though he realized that his eyes were continually sought out the little one, though she did nothing to draw attention to herself, he found himself wondering what it would feel like to touch her hair, run his fingertips over the smooth curve of her cheek, and the rest of her silky skin she tantalizingly kept covered from sight. Only her hands and a little skin of her throat remained uncovered. If she were his woman he would have her change her attire immediately, preferably to something that allowed more skin to show, and lots of it.

His imagination peeled off layer by layer until he caught himself and was thankful for his long coat which mercifully concealed the evidence of those musings. It was infuriating, she was a little slip of a thing really, and yet here he was, spending his free time fantasizing about her. He had known, and had bedded, more beautiful women, but she was different, unique, every gesture packed with vivid energy, and she glowed with an inner fire. It was the third day out when he determined to make her _his_ after his quest was over, at least for one night. An internal shrug: whether he wanted her around after that, well, that would remain to be seen. However, what he was beginning to learn about her, to see in her, he didn't think he would tire of her too quickly. What she thought, what she wanted, was of no consequence, for what she had done to him was to make him want her and no other. That was when it dawned on him that maybe she had been playing an elaborate game with him. Yet, it was hard to accept, given what he had observed of her during the long journey. However, no one caught him! She would pay dearly for weaving a spell over him, even if it were unintentional.

Warily he approached the hall door almost expecting them to come bursting back through the door again. It happened much too often, one of the hazards of stalking these particular agents. Once he'd even suspected they were following _him _when he was following them.

Another idea came to him as he stood there, one that would make his tracking easier and he would learn anything new as soon as they received it. This stalking and spying, as distracting as it was, wasn't working for him too well, and it would be handy to discover what the women knew about their assignment, what information they were getting, and from whom. Reaching up, he tugged at his ear, and quickly spoke in low tones, giving instructions to his young servant. The boy would soon be in place, waiting for the two Bernadelli agents.

Opening the door he saw that the two women were already at the other end of the observation room and stepping into the elevators. He flowed through the room not a stir in the air caused by his passage. Black coat tails rippled behind him, a silent shadow like a large sable cat stalking two unsuspecting mice. Halting at the elevator doors he reached up and pressed the call button. If he wanted a good seat from which to watch the show, he needed to hurry. _Time waits for no one, not even those 'outside of time'._

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_To be continued... Bwahaha... For those of you who didn't notice, the Count was inspired by the Count of Monte Cristo._


	8. CH 7 The Sandsteamer Pt 2

_Posting earlier than normal because we love you guys so much! Besides the fact that these two chapters gotogether so we hurried up and got them finished to show you all. Hope you enjoy! Special thanks goes to our reviewers! __AineofKnockaine, igbogal, Hopeis4Ever,and Beboots! Thanks everyone!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 7**

**The Sandsteamer Part II**

**Stardate: 08-15-0110-13:00**

The slender form of Revenant in his long coat of unrivaled black moved in decisive, ground-eating strides down the aisle between the dining tables. Like the light thin threads of silk, he felt the weight of quickly shot glances landing on him from as his fellow privileged elite took notice of him before moving back to their intimate circle of friends, or enemies.

His appearance wasn't what caused the soft buzz of comment to wash through the dining car, it was their perceptions of his wealth and power and well he knew it. He ignored the low hum of conversations and looks, Wealth was a great disguise if used correctly. Bizarre, eccentric behavior was practically applauded as a right of the aristocrats. A hint of a smirk touched his lips as a black-gloved hand ran over his recently dyed black hair while he cast his eye about looking for the table with the best view of the dining car..

There weren't many tables that were open but as he did a quick scan around him, he noticed an empty one in the corner by the elevators. It was exactly what he needed. Turning, his lean legs quickly shortened the distance and soon he was pulling out the chair for himself at a table in the shadow that most eyes would skim over. Sliding into the chair he searched for the familiar figures of the insurance girls.

The girls were getting their lunch from the small buffet at the other end of the dining room. From his position he could easily see them. The count watched them as he waited, the fingers of his right hand drumming out a quiet beat on the tabletop as he became lost in his thoughts.

What luck that the recent helpful clue he had sent to the Bernadelli Society as to the whereabouts of the Humanoid Typhoon had netted these two lovely agents, the very same ones he had met in December City. It all fell together almost too perfectly. These two though... if he hadn't known these two newest agents were assigned to the case before, he would have easily overlooked them in a crowd. For just a moment a decent thought rose up along with the foreign feeling of possessive indignation. They were only girls, for God's sake! What employer in his right mind would send two untried, barely trained, sweet, and innocent, barely out of high school, girls after a known and extremely dangerous criminal? It boggled the imagination. Humans were such fools. Humans were the single reason for everyth... Realizing he was heading in a direction he didn't care for, he wrenched his thoughts back from the burning anger where this thinking always landed him.

Forcing back murderous thoughts, he refocused his surveillance on the women but was careful not to be caught staring. Count Revenant watched Milly plop a huge bowl full of what looked like pudding on her tray with a tea cup and a plate of fried chicken... the tiny one, with the attitude, he noted, was carefully picking over the selection of fruit, some salad and a cappuccino. She said something to her partner and they both turned from the buffet and started toward an open table..

The imitation count ran a hand over his slick-backed hair. He hated this color and the contacts were already beginning to sting. He couldn't wait to get back to his quarters and shed this disguise. _This hair color has got to go! _He dug his nails into his scalp and scratched hard. He forced his hand down to grasp the arm of his chair to keep his hand away from his head. Next time, a wig, and any color but black! Too bad they had seen him back in December City, even if it was only a brief meeting, he wasn't going to take any chances that they would recognize him.

Why had he gone to such lengths? Crimson Nail had already laughed at his attempts to remain hidden from the girls. 'Why not just capture them and torture the information out of them?' She had asked moments before he stepped up on the boarding plank of the sandsteamer. But it was simple really, they would not find out any more information for him unless they were free to roam, and besides, they were traveling in the direction he was going anyway.

He looked up to find the girls moving closer toward him down the center aisle. They took no note of him as both had their eyes glued to the place where they planned to sit. The table they had chosen, one of the few open, was only a few windows down from his corner position. He picked up a menu and held it upto his face, pretending to be busy studying the variety of choices offered. No reason to call attention to himself and it would help him to keep from staring.

Covertly, he kept an eye on their movements. The small one pulled out a chair that was facing him and the blond took the seat at the end of the table so they could easily lean their heads together to talk privately if they needed to. Neither girl spared him a glance as both were too engrossed in their conversation. Now if he could just see them without having to lean around the thickset woman at a table between them.

After catching a fragment of what they were saying, he was just as engrossed as they were. "...says here that his weapon of choice is a silver gun, although there are rumors of a second one which..." His ears were sharper than a normal person's, but even he couldn't hear above the noisy dining area. He shot a narrow-eyed glance at the annoyingly loud woman who was talking to her atrocious naked rat of a dog she had sitting next to her at the table. Every time she turned to coo at him, the oversized feather in her hat bounced and dipped. Between bouts of, "Who's Mama's good baby Boo-boo snookums? Oooh youse is, yes youse are Mama's good Boo-boo snookums!" Barely above the honeyed-tones of Mama's voice could he hear fragments of the girl's conversation. He was ready to toss Mama and Boo-boo off the sandsteamer when "Mama's" food arrived and she was mercifully silent while she ate.

Even with the woman too busy eating to say much, the Count was unable to pick up much from the agent's table, except for intriguing scraps here and there.

"...It was part of the photo packet, Milly. It's odd. We received two photos that are just blurry enough to keep anyone from making a positive I.D..."

"... And that, my friend, is why it is so hard to say. Here, I'll show you what I mean!"

Her partner was nodding in agreement even while her lively blue eyes were fastened on the bowl in front of her, her spoon not slowing down one iota while her partner talked.

The smaller-sized, dark-haired agent pulled out two photos and placed them to the side so her friend couldn't spill anything on them. Unfortunately she chose that critical moment to lower her voice. Despite leaning forward, he was unable to make out what she was saying above the hum of the voices in the room. Dropping the menu to the side of his plate, he propped his forearms on the table in a futile effort to hear. He wondered if he could get Boo-boo's Mama with the her bouncing feathered hat to trade places with him. He studied the woman from under half-lidded eyes, before shrugging off that thought. He highly doubted it. From what he had observed so far, she didn't seem like the accommodating type. Wincing, he watched her lift Boo-boo rat dog up on the table, wagging his ratty stub of a tail. She was getting it to stand on its hind legs, begging for a scrap of steak. He lowered his head into his hand thinking _I hate humans and now I may have to add dogs to the list._.

Trying not to watch the antics of Mama and Boo-boo, instead, he turned his attention back to the agents. Just as his eyes fell on their table, the tall one mumbled something incomprehensible around whatever it was she was chewing on. He fumed with frustration. This was the first conversation they had outside of their room where they were actually mentioning particulars from their case and he couldn't hear a word of it!

The long-haired one waved down a waitress who was passing by with a tray and reached for two more bowls of chocolate and vanilla swirl. He made a mental note about her penchant for pudding; recently, he had watching in amazement as she consumed, with much humming and 'yumming', four big bowls of it. That had been the day she asked him for the salt, not for her, but for her dark-haired friend.

He watched the elbow of the smaller one move back and forth in a sawing movement as she cut something on her plate. With a quiet growl, he scooted his chair over in the hopes of being able to see better. For some reason beyond his understanding, he wanted, no _needed, _to see more of the little female. He tried telling himself it was so he could read her lips as she whispered to her companion.

Once in place he again picked up the menu to use in case they happened to look over at him. He wanted them to see someone whose only concern at the moment was trying to decide out what to have for lunch. Tilting his head, he could make out part of her hair with a small tip of one ear peeking through, a line of smooth cheek, the tip of her tiny nose, and half of a smiling mouth along with one gray eye. No, he quickly amended, gray with lavender highlights; how very unusual, he mused.

"Would you care to order, sir?"

The Count looked up to find the waiter leaning toward him in a subservient manner ready to take his order. Irritated at the interruption he blurted out something off the top of his head wanting to get rid of the waiter. The man didn't blink as he wrote down the items as if shrimp with pineapple yogurt and a pint of bourbon were frequently ordered together from the menu. After making sure there wasn't anything else Revenant wanted, the waiter left to take the order to the kitchen.

The hefty woman with the feathered hat stood up to leave, taking that ratty dog with her in her special purse and now the count had a clear view of the two women. He also overheard another tantalizing scrap of conversation.

"...I don't know, Milly, but at times I feel like there is something going on that is not readily discernable on the surface of things." She tapped on the surface of the table with a fingernail, a slight frown drawing her brows together as she then pushed the two photos closer to her partner.

"Also, look at the handwriting on the back, it's different than the letter, and see here… these two letters are written by two different authors. The second author is similar in style to the photo's inscriptions; both using outdated grammar and punctuation. No one writes like that anymore! Now over here in the corners, strange postmarks on both show that they were sent from two towns iles apart! They were supposed to have come from insurance agents, right? So why didn't they give the report together? And if you look at this here in the corner of the photo, yes that's right, this leads me to believe..." Her voice lowered again.

_Believe what, dammit! _Why did she feel the need to talk softly _now _of all times! He gripped the cloth napkin as if wishing it were the fabric of her jacket that he had a hold of. How he wanted to shake her! If it weren't for the fact he needed to remain incognito, he would have pulled a gun on them right then and there, forcing the brunette to tell him everything. This _wasn't_ the way he normally worked, hiding like this, even if it were a game; if he had Legato or even Elendira with him, perhaps it all would have been much simpler. He wouldn't need to follow them to find out where his brother was, he could have_ made_ them find him! There were, however, disadvantages to that plan too.

He strained to read the little one's lips, but the blond kept bobbing her head in and out of the way, going back and forth between her obvious religious experience of inhaling pudding, to study the photos before spooning more into her mouth.

"... So it could be two..."

_Two? Two what? _One of her small fingers jabbed at the photo and he would have paid good money to know what it was that she was pointing out to the taller agent.

"Uff, mo Murfl," the blond managed to mumble around a mouthful of food. "Whaff bah frofflem?"

Not looking up upon hearing the garbled question, the raven-haired agent, not seeming to need a translation, pointed to something on the photo and answered, "See this, this here? I know it is small, but if you just look at it closely..." Her voice rose when she was excited but remembering where they were she was careful to lower it again.

_Damn, that woman has the worst timing in the world! _His fists were clenched tightly and he fought the urge to storm over there, tuck the wee bit under his arm and take her back to his suite and make her talk. Immediately his frustration bled away as other options came to mind before giving his head an abrupt shake. He didn't have time to follow that line of thought! Then he remembered there was a Plan B in the wings and immediately his shoulders dropped in relief. If all went well he wouldn't need to eavesdrop anymore. It would be like sitting right next to them listening to every word as clear as day.

With a mouth finally free of food, the tall one asked, "So, maybe there are two then, but are they working together or separately?"

_Double damn! _Even the other, more experienced agents were unable to get that far! _Those girls are sharp… wait, two of what! Two of us, two different people writing notes, or two different…_

"I don't know." The raven-haired one said, shaking her head so that her long bangs fell across her eyes.

In a gesture that was probably habitual by now, the little female brushed the bangs back, only to have them fall into place again. He could tell she hardly noticed, her mind was firmly riveted with the problem of their assignment and the mystery surrounding it. He would never have suspected these two unassuming agents would be able to start putting the pieces together. The Count was just hoping to use their information gathering contacts to find out what he needed to know. He needed to divert their attention and soon, especially if they figured out someone else besides Bernadelli was supplying them with information. He couldn't have them coming so close to the truth, not yet anyway; there was still much of the game to play out and other pieces to get into place first.

He saw the waiter carrying a tray heading in his direction. Sitting back in his chair he made room in front of him for the serving plates. Once the waiter left, he looked down and blinked in surprise. He lifted the small dish of pineapple yogurt and placed it to the side and the picked up his fork to poke the barbecued shrimp, one eyebrow raised as he studied his plate; obviously these two agents were starting to distract him. With a sigh, he began dipping his shrimp into the yogurt. Thankfully the concoction wasn't bad when accompanied with a great deal of bourbon and water to wash it down. He heard several bits of conversation float back to him as he ate but none of it appeared to be about the case.

Then he saw the two insurance girls reaching for their napkins and wiping their lips. After that they painstakingly scratched out on a scrap piece of paper, the amount they should leave for a tip. He smirked at their ignorance. The expected gratuity was a bit too rich for their blood: a hundred double dollar bill or, if the patron would rather, the tip was placed on the suite's bill. Which meant that the girl's would tip and Bernadelli would also be charged, although he doubted they would ever know that. Both were finally nodding with satisfaction and left a bill tucked under a plate.

Before they could leave the table, the Count gestured with a prearranged hand signal to his follower and then sat back to watch the show. Now was the time for Plan B…. or whatever letter he was on after this long week of hassle.

Heading toward the girls who were heading in his direction, a young man passed his table, who, appearance-wise, had the features of a youth only a couple of years younger than the two girls. He wore brown slacks, tan vest, a white button-down shirt, and a red bandana tied jauntily around his neck. Upon seeing him, not a trace of recognition crossed Revenant's face, but inwardly he was filled with smug satisfaction. The youth was chosen to accompany him on this trip rather than his normal escort because of his ability to express naive innocence; a good disguise for an assassin.

The lad pretended to trip over a foot and went down face first into the plush carpet of the aisle. A cold smile sliced across the count's face as he watched the performance. What he was expecting, and was pleasantly rewarded to see, was the sight of both girls apologizing profusely as they reached down to help the lad to his feet. The Count watched intently. The youth was not used to being touched by humans, especially females and he wondered if the boy would react to their touch.

It was all the black-clad Count could do to keep his mouth from dropping open. This seeming youth, this _boy_, in truth, a cold-hearted killer, was actually _blushing _as he smiled warmly at the two lovely ladies. Both of them were returning his smile as he thanked them profusely while apologizing for his own clumsiness at the same time. He was holding on to their hands, eyes glum even as he smiled charmingly up at them.

The Count gave his underling a dirty look which was lost in the commotion of the two women fussing over him and fumed, _I never said anything about touching! Not one word! Little sand-worm delinquent!_

The youth looked for all the world as if he was enjoying the women's concern, even egging it on with a pitiful 'woe is me' look he directed their way. The Count couldn't believe the women were being taken in by the story the youth was spinning out. Yes, a sob story but this? This was just ridiculous and it certainly wasn't in his plan his underling to get chummy with them!

Wishing he could send a mental message of _'just plant the stupid device and move on!' _he seethed quietly, unable to do a thing except watch helplessly as the women straightened the boy's vest and dusted him off. It was a lush, carpet he had fallen on, not a concrete floor embedded with shards of broken glass!

One long gloved finger began tapping the surface of the table in irritation. Was his minion given permission to enjoy the special treatment being lavished on him? After this assignment was over he was going to have to lay down some ground rules for future missions.

The short agent grabbed a napkin, dunked one end in her water glass and began dabbing at a stain on the youth's collar while offering to have it washed it for him if he came back to their suite. Now the count's finger thumped out a slower, more ominous beat against the table. The tall girl bent down and picked up the wallet the youth had dropped and wiped it off before handing it back to him with a wide, pleasant smile.

Was the kid blushing? Was the Beast actually blushing? This was getting to be too much! The hand stilled in shock to stare at the scene in front of him. Then the contacts dried out and he had to blink carefully to keep them from popping out of his eyes. _My 'Things I Hate' list is getting longer by the day! Got to remember to add rat-dogs named Boo-boo, these hell-cursed contacts, and... _the Count closed one eye as he glared at Zazie the Beast, _and especially young brats with delusions of horning in on what is mine!_

The small female was retying the lad's tie with a delicate, light touch. Revenant gripped the edge of the table mainly to keep from leaping up and raging over to the trio in a possessive anger. Realizing the strangeness of the emotion coursing through him, he held onto his fraying temper. However, that didn't prohibit him from clenching his teeth together until his jaw ached.

_Just do your job, dammit!_

With thunder on his brow he watched the three laughingly exchange names and then he saw it, the slight of hand that was too fast for the human eye to follow. With the other hand moving in theatrical circles and grand gestures, the Beast distracted the two women with an obviously fabricated tale that no one could possibly believe. A son of the count? Stolen by gypsies? Mother died in childbirth? Played a washboard on street corners to earn money? Dug swimming pools for poor orphans of the rich and famous? _I gotta find a better class of liars to work for me, this is pathetic! _

The Count slapped a hand over his face and then peered out through spread fingers; aghast at the story the youth was still spinning out for the two women. Just recently the youth had been employed as a traveling toma tamer? His eyes went to the women; surely they didn't believe a word of it, they couldn't possibly! It was with a profound shock to see the sympathetic expressions on their faces and hands reaching out to pat him tenderly on the arm with kindhearted concern.

His mouth dropped open. Zazie was actually blushing as each lady shook his hand and then he took both of theirs, lifting them to his mouth to press a swift kiss one the backs. Now the two girls were blushing, giggling, and smiling! The Count's head whirled back and forth between the three, not believing what he was seeing. He closed his mouth with a snap and began rubbing fingertips in a gentle circles on his temple while wondering _Is this what an aneurysm feels like_?

Finally, Zazie the Beast made his way down the aisle to the far door and pushed through it.

_'_Finally' was right. Now he could leave and get back to his... Just then he saw the tall blond reach over and pluck something off the tied bow of the smaller one's cape. Raising her hand, the tall one held up a round, black bug. They may not know what it was, but he did, it was exactly what it looked like, an electronic bug and not one of Zazie's little insect friends either. It was his plan to hear what they were saying and that was how he was planning on doing it. The blond-haired girl placed it in her friend's petite palm for her to study, which she did with a quizzical frown.

Pushing a piece of shrimp around on his plate he spied on them from under his brows and watched as the little one held the tiny receiver up to the light between a thumb and forefinger to get good look at it. There was no way she could know what it was. Only someone skillfully trained would know a listening device when they saw it…

"Milly, do you know what this means?"

"Uh, he wants to ask you out on a date but was too shy to ask?"

"As if. I doubt I'm his type," mumbled Meryl so softly he almost missed it.

Patiently she explained, "No, if nothing else, this means that we are on the right track. No one," and here she scowled at the gadget. "Would waste their time trying to put this on us unless we were getting close to the truth. Sheriff Cayzen was right, we really _do_ need to watch our backs."

Reaching over she dropped the device into her water glass. Revenant's eyes went wide with surprise; she even knew how to disable it? His narrowed eyes cut back to her, re-evaluating his opinion of the white-clad agent. How could she be so well trained at such a young age!

"There, Milly. That takes care of that. Let's get back to our room, I still have some calculations to figure out, but now I am especially encouraged, aren't you?"

Milly looked less enthusiastic than her partner, saying "Uhm, yeah," as she threw a worried glance at the glass.

Brushing her hands one against the other, in a 'job well done' motion, she spared a glance at the device slowly sinking to the bottom of her glass, "If I wasn't sure before, I am now! Let's go Milly!" With renewed vigor the shorter agent made her way to the doors, the blond heaved a big sigh before following in her partner's wake.

They started walking in his direction. He tensed for a mere second before remembering that he was sitting next to the elevators.

Since it was a common enough thing to do, he looked up as they neared him, just like any normal human would do when someone approached them. He noted that the air around the little female fairly crackled with unseen energy. Her dove gray eyes glowed with the potent life force within her and mesmerized him until she was parallel with him and her eyes happened to fall on him. With an effort, he slid his gaze over her to her friend as if normal curiosity made him take note of the two women walking by him. An actor he wasn't, but schooled his features to casual indifference as his watched the taller of the two bringing up the rear.

In that instant, he saw an inner vision of them. One was like a fallen snow on a calm winter day and the other a tempest of fire and wind. They were well matched.

As they passed by, the one named Milly happened to look down at him and he froze in the gaze of those thoughtful blue eyes, like the light on the rim of the sky at dawn. He wondered briefly if she could or would see through his disguise underneath the brown contacts and black-dyed hair.

Instead of pointing a finger and alerting everyone with a yell, she smiled and chirped out an especially cheerful, "Hello!" before stepping into the elevator car behind her partner. His eyes followed her as he let out a pent-up breath and sagged down in his chair. He wasn't getting very far very fast this way… Perhaps he needed another approach…

Leaning back in his chair in relief that his disguise held up so well in such close quarters, he dropped his napkin on the table and waited. Within seconds the server was there to whisk away all the unwanted plates and silverware. Revenant barely noticed, he only had eyes for the other table where sat the glass of water holding the highly expensive Lost Technology. He hoped it wasn't ruined.

Damn. These things didn't grow on trees. Not waiting until the dining room was empty, he pushed back the chair he was sitting in and moved over to the table where the girls had so recently eaten lunch. He picked up the glass of water and drank it making sure to catch the transmitter carefully in his teeth and then tucked it in the side of his cheek. It was much smoother and easier than trying to fish the thing out with his fingers. Replacing the glass, he left a generous tip and started back for his quarters, pondering the sheer dumb luck that allowed the girls to avoid his close scrutiny and eavesdropping. Maybe he would have to keep doing it the old fashioned way, even if experience was proving that it wasn't working all that well for him.

It was part of the plan that they help him locate the whereabouts of his brother. But he also wanted to make sure they went in the right direction. It wouldn't do to have them charge off in the exact opposite directions of where he knew his brother was, which is why had sent enough clues to get the agents heading on the move, even though he himself wasn't sure exactly where his brother was hiding out at. Now though, he knew for certain that someone else was also supplying the insurance company with clues that were the opposite of his. When had they received the letter? He only sent photos as clues for the agents to follow! He frowned in thought wondering, but suspecting that he knew… No wonder the agents were so confused!

Although, he had to admit, the small one was sorting through the wrong information at a breakneck speed. He had a feeling they would not be on the right path in no time at all. Already they were headed to the town where the old insurance agents had gotten themselves killed. The count sighed. Was his brother really there, even after everything that happened? He was pretty sure that wasn't the case. It was the last place they would find the Humanoid Typhoon, so it was precisely the place someone would send them that wanted them going in the wrong direction, right? He pinched the bridge of his nose, _Now I am getting confused!_

Punching the recall button on the elevator he waited, foot tapping and a grim expression on his slender handsome face. It was decided then, just so the little idiots didn't go haring off in the wrong direction yet again; he would need to spike his hair, put on a red coat and make an appearance as the Stampede every now and then so that they continued to believe they were on the right trail.

The elevators swooshed open and he stepped in, relieved to find he was the only occupant. After the doors shut he stabbed the button for his floor with a long finger. Only when the car started moving did he permit himself a smug smile even as his eyes narrowed in contemplation of all the many ways he could bring everlasting torment into the Stampede's life.

"Yes indeed, you flee, brother, when no one chases; you stop to rest only to find your shadow is already there." A cold smile flickered across his lips.

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_So did you figure out who the Count was? GRINS We can't help but torture him a wee bit... That's what he gets for such corny disguises! See you next chapter!_


	9. CH 8 November City

_Sorry this new chaptertook so long! Between conventions, homelife, worklife, and just the crush of school and life in general our story has sort of been on a stand still. However, my promise, the next few chapters are ready to goand will beup shortly! (PS - with the craziness, and even with my much loved Beta Catherine, if you notice any errors please let us know so we can fix them!) Thanks so much for all of your patience and s__pecial thanks goes to our reviewers! __AineofKnockaine, Beboots, ReadingWhiz, inkydoo, and LilBrokenDolly! Thanks everyone!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

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**Chapter 8**

**November City**

**Stardate: 08-21-0110-11:00**

November City was considered the "fourth" city on the planet Gunsmoke. It fell behind May and Augusta now that July was gone, in that order, as one of the largest cities with a steadily growing economy. The main reason it was so wealthy was the plethora of satellite dishes and communication buildings found in the area In this city, everyone knew what was going on everywhere on the planet. Gossip was common, and Meryl had a feeling this one of the main reasons why the two insurance agents who went before them chose this town as their headquarters.

It was also the reason why they found out where Vash the Stampede was so quickly. The moment a gunman as legendary as Vash strolled into town wearing his bright red coat and sporting that shining blond hair, everyone knew where he was. They also knew the Federal bounty was taken off of him, so for the most part he was left alone. Which was why it was so disturbing to note that he had snuffed out a whole city block in a manner of minutes that day, and also why James and Connor had been a part of it. No one seemed to recall quite how it happened, although dozens of people claimed to have witnessed it.

Meryl stepped down off of the Morphus with Milly in tow, carrying luggage, typewriter and various other trinkets Milly had asked if they could buy while on board (as long as the Society was paying for them of course!). Milly deftly juggled the bag carrying the trinkets that were bundled neatly in packages, addressed and ready to send back home on the next mail steamer to December. It was the only thing she was nervous about, that she might accidentally misplace them or lose them before she could get them mailed off to the family. Otherwise, Milly was grinning wildly, glad to be off the boring steamer and back on solid ground, able to do something constructive for once!

This was the farthest either of the girls had ever been away from their hometown, and it felt like a whole different world. With wide eyes, they noted the use of lost technology everywhere! Brilliant neon signs proclaimed electronic gadgets of every sort; shop windows were filled with every thing imaginable from watches to calculators, electric toothbrushes and radios. Meryl tried to stare at everything at once, gawking as did Milly who exclaimed in wondering tones at the sight before them. Meryl had heard of this town (who hadn't?) but never before had she imagined the scale of it all! There were instruments that measured and relayed the temperature in a tinny electronic voice, others that massaged one's back while they sat in a chair, there were video recorders, and one shop even had television sets!

Milly dropped her bags onto the sidewalk; her mouth hung open. "Wow, would ya get a load of this place?"

Meryl nodded, nearly as stunned before shaking her head to clear it, "We've got to get to business Milly, we've come here for information and then we'll be on our way again."

"But Meryl!" Milly closed her mouth and pointed at one thing after another, "Look at that! And that! What _is_ that anyway? And oh my goodness it's a greenhouse!" She pointed lastly to a tiny building nestled against a tall department store. Through the front window they could see dozens of plants in little glass globes. A sign on the window proclaimed, "Get your self-sustaining habitats in our gift shop!" A sign over the store read "Museum of Agriculture". Milly started forward and Meryl hauled her back.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?"

Milly pouted, putting on the biggest puppy-dog eyed expression she could muster, "But Meryl! My Pop would just _love_ to hear about this! Couldn't we even take a few minutes to look?"

For a moment she really thought that Meryl wouldn't give in, but finally her friend sighed and nodded with a smile. "Okay Milly, I guess we really do deserve a break after all the work we've put in these last few weeks. But we should at least check into our hotel first and drop off our bags."

Grinning from ear to ear, the tall insurance girl grabbed up her bags and followed Meryl down the street to the first hotel they came to called the "Technic Inn". They checked in, settled their belongings in an amazingly clean hotel room that actually had a television set in it, electrical outlets, and hair dryer… Meryl could tell that Milly was amazed enough by their room that she almost forgot about the museum. At least until the big girl shucked off her duster and tie, changed into her blue jeans and clapped her hands together. "Okay Meryl! I'm ready to go now!"

Meryl eyed her from the desk where she was setting up her typewriter. She glanced down at her papers and nodded, "Okay… Just let me get changed too."

About a half hour later Meryl was following a bouncy Milly back past the strange array of shop fronts and up to the museum once again. Milly pressed her nose against the window. "Oooh…"

"You want to go in don't you?" Meryl eyed Milly and then the sign on the door telling the times and days of operation and the admittance fees to get into the museum. With relief and some surprise, she saw the price wasn't as steep as she was afraid it was going to be. Maybe in a town full of gadgets, plants weren't as high on the priority list.

She went to the door and put her hand on the knob with Milly a step behind her, although her eyes were locked on the various small plants displayed in the window. They slipped in the front door and a man behind the counter looked up from his newspaper. Meryl noticed the large print on the front as they walked up. The title read: "Vash the Stampede sighted en route to Marchville". The man put the paper down before she could read any more and he smiled politely as he sat forward in his chair. "Wow, you're the second visitors I've had today, must be sightseers from the Morphus?"

Meryl shrugged. "Just here on business really, but my partner here grew up on a farm up in December City…"

"Look at that Meryl, an honest to goodness banana palm!" Milly exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her heels as she read the displays in the lobby. "And oh! A maple tree! And oh!" The man behind the counter started to laugh. Meryl felt a bit embarrassed by her friend's abundance of enthusiasm, but the owner didn't seem to mind.

"Well, it doesn't do me much good to do this, but since your friend seems so excited, you two can go in on the house." He smiled and gave them each a ticket. "Just buy something in the gift shop on your way out, maybe?"

Milly nodded, "Oh I'm sure we will! Tap-dancing tomas in tutus, this is just so exciting, right, Meryl?" She clutched her ticket in her right hand and followed a sighing Meryl through a set of glass doors where a bored teenager sat playing some kind of hand-held device. He stuck out his hand and took the tickets from the girls and didn't say a word, just waved them through yet one more set of doors. Milly was practically bursting, she rushed past Meryl and began dashing from one display to another, looking at each description, reading them out loud, before going onto the next exhibit. Milly's enthusiasm was infectious and Meryl found herself grinning as she watched her darting from one plant to the next. However, she decided she'd move through the maze of the museum at a more leisurely pace.

It was a pleasant place, she had to admit. The first area housed an array of garden-variety plants that were grown on Gunsmoke. The next, a more exotic variety that could be grown on their planet under special circumstances. Farther on were plants unable to survive outside of a habitat such as this museum. Some of them were marked "weeds" although Meryl wasn't sure why the pretty little dandelion flower used to be considered a pest on old Earth. Another room was devoted entirely to trees of every variety. The ceiling went up and up to house the taller specimens. Meryl hadn't noticed the building being this tall before, but realized that it was actually part of the building behind the little museum's storefront. Apparently this place was much bigger than it looked from the outside.

Meryl looked around for her friend and realized she hadn't seen her for quite sometime, which was nearly from the very outset, but tracking Milly had been easy; one could hear her squeals of delight in each room she entered. Milly had been rapidly darting to and from one display to the next that she must be quite a ways ahead of the shorter agent. Meryl scanned the veritable jungle around her with a hint of unease, and for the first time noticed she felt a little claustrophobic. This much greenery in one place was just... well... unnatural! The fronds and leaves blocked one's view of their surroundings! She stopped and cocked her head to listen. No, she couldn't hear Milly's voice and she sighed in irritation. Placing hands on hips and shaking her head, she wondered if she should go back the way she came and wait there or go find the gift shop and wait for her there instead. Absently, she stared up at the tall pine tree to the side of her and wondered what it would have been like for an entire planet to be covered in life like this. She just couldn't picture it, although it was an intriguing concept. After running a petite hand through her dark, cropped hair, she pushed on, following the narrow aisle to the exit.

Meryl halted at the door to scan this next room, which was dimly lit. Much to her dismay, this room, too, was void of her friend. She could tell since instead of trees of all sorts, this room housed row after row of beautiful flowers. Each was sheltered in a small glass globe and lit with growth light bulbs. Otherwise the room was dark with spots of light hovering over one flower after another. Meryl stopped to read each description. They gave flower names and descriptions of habitat, plus the meanings of the flowers and colors. There were roses, meaning many forms of love and friendship. Pansies of all colors meaning remembrance. Irises for hope, lilies for peace, violets for faith, orchids for joy, and one… Meryl found herself suddenly shoulder to shoulder with someone looking at a pretty little red flower.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" She blinked, not having realized there was someone else in the room with her; she had been so caught up in reading, walking down the row with her eyes plastered on the flowers, she didn't even realize she'd bumped into anyone! Meryl backed away a step and found the person looking at the flower hadn't moved, his eyes still focused completely on the little red bloom. "Um… Are you okay?"

Suddenly life returned to the stranger, he blinked and then turned to acknowledge the presence next to him. Meryl's breath caught, it was… "It's you!"

"Me who?" He blinked again at her. "Oh! You're that girl from…" The tall man frowned, pretending that he was trying to remember where he had seen her before.

"The guy outside the movie theater!" Meryl looked over the stranger. Sure enough, tall and skinny, dark honey blond hair spiked up on his head and strange eyes the color of the dusty greenish-blue berries on one of the trees she had passed earlier. His eyes reflected a strange bluish glow of light, until Meryl decided it had to be from the display in front of them. He was wearing the same black coat from the sandsteamer, along with an amused expression on his face now that she recognized him.

"Are you following us?" she demanded, spine stiffening, ready to give this interloper a 'what-for' depending on his answer.

With a sweeping lift of his brow mocking her, he replied, "I should ask you the same thing!" He chuckled inwardly at himself, it was actually quite a brilliant reply if he did say so himself… But he really _hadn't_ been following the girls this time, and had actually been quite surprised when the little insurance agent showed up right next to him! _Stupid!_ He scolded himself; he was too caught up in thinking about how he was going to make a paradise out of this planet one day for his brother and himself… Remembering the words that Rem said, oh so many years ago, until he could almost hear her grindingly sweet voice in his ears.

Meryl was watching him intently, waiting for a real answer and he sighed. "Look lady, I don't know who you are or what you're doing here, but I'm just sight-seeing, okay?" He stood aside. "You want to look at the geranium or something? Least you could say is 'excuse me'."

"Excuse me!" Meryl retorted, she pushed past him and read the meaning: determination. She smiled to herself, _That's something everyone needs a little bit of._ When she finished reading she turned to look at the stranger again. "Anyway, what I said that night about…"

The man was gone. The little insurance agent's eyes skated around the room, first one corner and the next; even ducking below the displays, but there wasn't a sign of him! It was too dark anyway… She let out an exasperated groan. First Milly, and now this weirdo! Didn't matter that the guy was kinda cute, but he had the manners of a troll! So much for first impressions! If she met him again she'd definitely give him a 'what-for' on his manners, that's for sure! Buy him some tact maybe!

She was so intent on the speech she would give him that she didn't notice a new person enter the room and come to stand next to her until they said, "Whatcha doin', Meryl?"

"GAH!" Meryl jumped and latched onto Milly without realizing she was grabbing onto the very person who scared the crap out of her. "What in the world… where did you come from?"

Milly chuckled, "I came from that door over there, why do you ask? And why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" She eyed her little friend intently, wondering what had stirred her up so much.

"That… That man! That aggravatingly handsome man from outside of the theater a few months ago! He was just here looking at this flower!" She jabbed a finger at the geranium and looked at Milly, "Did you see anyone walk by a minute ago?"

"No… Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Milly put a hand to Meryl's forehead. "You don't feel feverish…"

Meryl swatted her hand away, "Cut that out, I feel fine! He must have gone back out the way we came. That jerk." She balled her hands into fists and headed to the next door, "Come on, Milly, let's see the rest of the museum before dinner."

"Okay, Meryl!" Milly started to follow and then stopped in her tracks and the thought struck her, maybe that guy _was_ following them? She smiled. Meryl had an admirer.

"You coming?" Meryl said over her shoulder.

"Coming!" Milly couldn't stop smiling.

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**Uncovered Disguises**

**Stardate: 08-22-0110-00:00**

The count of Augusta tripped out of the high-class saloon and stumbled, rather than walked, down the stairs. Upon hitting the hard-packed dirt of the street he tripped and hit his knees. He stayed there for a moment, head hanging before sluggishly lifting it to stare around blearily, wondering where he was. All he knew for sure was that the place he had just exited was the first bar he had patronized in ages that wasn't a dingy hovel of ill-repute like the kind he usually haunted in order to get wasted.

Groggily he became aware that he was kneeling in the street and it finally seeped through his booze-soaked brain that this might not be the best place to take a breather. With effort, he stood to his feet. The street was swaying to the left... to the right... to the left; _Damn I am going to be sick!_ He hastily clapped a hand over his mouth and fought down the urge to vomit. _This town must be built on an incline, everything's tipping sideways._

A car horn honked as it swerved around him. It didn't matter, it was a common enough occurrence for him and it also meant that his intention of tying one on had worked. The gentleman clad in an expensive suit of black cloth would have been sorely put out if he wasn't at least past the tipsy stage. He had spent the late afternoon and evening buying the good stuff for a change, although the passage of time had gone by him unnoticed. Before taking a few wobbly steps toward the stairs that led up to the wide stone boardwalk edging the front of all the stores on this street, he blinked in confusion up at the night sky. Squinting, he stared at the rising moons. He blinked again. He couldn't remember if it had been day or night when he first arrived and entered the bar. Although he wasn't as drunk as he thought he remembered he wanted to be, at least he wasn't sober. _I hope I'm not._

His associates were under the impression that he was alcohol-guzzling drunk, but not a one of them suspected the real reason he went on these frequent benders. And he was not about to clue any of them in that he only did this when the nagging pain in his arm flared up on occasion, became too much for him. Specifically, it was the Gateway seed located between the bones of his forearm. His arm had begun to pain him ever since July. It was then that the Gates of the twins had resonated with each other until they had exploded and lay to waste a whole city and its population. The only survivors of that devastating, uncontrollable power were the two Plant brothers

Sometimes the ache was only a minor irritant but at other times it felt as if all the nerves up and down his arm were on fire. He looked down at the offensive limb and curled the fingers into a fist. Even after he sobered up, it was a decided blessing when the sensation of pain was numbed, if only for a few days. But he knew that it wouldn't stay that way for long. Being drunk was the only thing that made the pain go away. With a sigh he relaxed his fingers again. He always hoped that the pain was gone for good, but it always came back, and at the most inopportune times too.

The worst thing was that getting drunk was not as easy for him as it was for a human. For him it entailed a process that took hours upon hours of steady and hard drinking since his plant metabolism was just as stubborn about trying to filter the poison from his system. Needless to say it was a battle of epic proportions and one that was extremely hard to win. He had yet to find a medicine or drug on the market or black market that was able to mask the tedious ache that was always a constant and unwelcome companion. Thanks to his _brother _who was now hanging out with the religious freaks.

He made an attempt to snarl but his lips were too numb. Absently he reached over and began massaging his arm even though it didn't hurt at the moment. The pain had started up again when he was visiting that flower museum. Immediately upon leaving the building and getting changed into a new disguise, this one involving a wig this time, he had gone in search of a classy joint in which to get thoroughly and completely wasted without being bothered by the petty bickering and quarreling that was to be expected in the holes jammed with the filth of humanity.

All day he had sat at the bar, knocking back one shot after another, drinking hard and fast. Periodically he tossed a wad of money out on the counter to alleviate the nervousness of the bartender when his tab began racking up into the triple digits; he wasn't downing the cheap stuff and nor was he savoring it. After the crowd thinned out, the constant click of his shot glass on the counter was the only sound heard. Finally the bartender asked him if would rather just have the bottles set in front of him or could he please get the gentleman a larger glass? With unfocused eyes the count nodded at where the fuzzy image of the man was supposedly standing.

Now, he felt the need to be alone and wanted to finish drinking in his room. The crisp outside air was waking him up but thankfully the burning acid of pain was in a slumbering mode at the moment.

Numbly he looked about him at the shops, most were already closed for the evening. How he loved these larger towns where the saloons frequently operated around the clock, not like some so-called civilized spots. He started to reach up to rub his forehead when an immediate thought warned him that he didn't want to do that. He stood there puzzled for a moment, arm halted mid-raise. Then he remembered why he didn't want to lift up his arms very far, he was carrying a bottle of the 'Aged Amber Silk', tucked under each one. Something for the road, he had told the bartender. _That's right...still thirsty, _was his sodden thought It was needed to fortify himself against the hardships of life. The bartender only gave him a skeptical look and remarked that he was acting more like someone whose life was full of trouble and woes.

Upon hearing that remark the count lashed out an arm and snatched at the man's collar. Pulling him close until they were practically nose to nose he informed the alarmed bartender he should keep his nose out of other people's business. Releasing his hold, the tall form of the count slowly slid off the bar stool and, with exaggerated care, stood up. In order to stop the room from spinning, he placed both hands on the bar and took a couple of deep breaths. When things had finally settled to a mere rocking motion, he grabbed up his purchases and left. By some minor miracle he actually exited through the correct door of the three that were dancing and wavering in front of his vision.

He swung his gaze up and down the street, and finally stopped as the action was making his stomach heave dangerously. Instead, trying to halt the swaying while trying to stand erect, the count sought to get his bearings. It was difficult to do when one couldn't even remember the name of the town. What made it tolerable was the two bottles tucked up under his arms and he wasn't planning on sharing. He stopped again to frown up and down the street, wondering where he had left his hotel room. A puzzled look crossed his face as he tried to dredge up a memory. Had he even rented a hotel room this time? Finally, a clear image swam up through the booze-soaked layers, that, yes indeed, he did remember being shown to a room. That much he did recall. Now, if he could just figure out where that was...

Lowering his head cautiously so the world wouldn't start spinning crazily on him again, he reached up an arm and rubbed his eyes. He froze when he heard the tinkling sound of glass breaking on the stone step next to him.

"Shiiii..." he slurred out.

Dropping his hand in resignation, the count looked down and saw the precious amber liquid splattered at his feet. The dry earth of a perpetually thirsty planet was rapidly soaking the liquid in until only a damp spot was left. Shards of shattered glass sparkled under the glow of the moons. He stared at the sight, one of the saddest he had seen of late and mourned the loss of his bottle. With a forlorn expression he studied the mess and then gave the remaining bottle tucked under his other arm a reassuring pat. Finally, with a philosophical shrug, he tripped up the steps to the boardwalk. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he held onto the rail with his free hand while contemplating the rough stone walkway stretching to his left and right. Since he wasn't in a hurry, and still couldn't remember where his hotel was, he chose one and began weaving drunkenly down the roofed passageway in front of the shops lining the street.

As he came abreast of a window that advertised the fact that it was the telegraph office, he stumbled again and reached out for something to break his fall. The only thing that kept him from pitching forward onto his knees was the door slamming open in time to catch the tip of the bottle sticking out from the crook of his arm. The bottle shot out backwards as if launched from a cannon. A sound of exasperation ending in a deep growl burst from his lips as once more he heard the sound of breaking glass, only this time, from behind him. Holding onto the doorknob he let the opening door ram him against the wall as a way to keep upright while he turned to stare at the glass remains glittering on the stone. A darker wet spot showed where the liquor was pooling. _Again, dammit all!_

Under his breath he growled, "That is the most barbaric and ill-mannered treatment of finely aged... whatever the hell it was... I have seen in years!" With a snarl he whipped his head to see who it was that was responsible for this heinous crime.

Peering around the edge of the door and looking down at him, which wasn't hard to do since he was slowly sliding down the wall, was a tall blond girl.

"Oh my!" The girl exclaimed and it appeared to him like she was going to start tearing up right then and there. "I'm so sorry! Are you hurt? Oh dear, here let me help you up!" She pushed the door closed and stepped over to him, leaning a bit so she could grab him by his arms and assist him to his feet. His eyes nearly popped out at the ease with which she lifted him, and all without a sign of strain crossing her face, which, at the moment, was marred by the presence of tears trickling down it.

By the moons! A sniffling woman, how he hated that! "Dohn cry," he ordered her and realized too late that it would have sounded more commanding if hadn't come out in an unintelligible slur. He made an attempt to wave away her helping hand but to no avail. She grabbed a hold of him by the shoulders as he started to slide down again, and hauled him to his feet with that same ease as before. With supreme effort, he wrenched away from her, focused on her face, which was blurring at the edges and considered what to say to her since she ignored his first slurred words to her. However, what she said sobered him up quicker than a bucket of cold water to the face.

"It's you."

He was as drunk as a lord, but his eyes snapped to hers with a clarity he had not had in hours. Unfortunately his mouth was lagging behind.

"An, you are tha… insluran... er, insurgen... uh, imergense..." He stopped his efforts for a moment in order to get control of his tongue and pinned her with a scowl. "You are... damn strong for a girl!" Upon saying that, he lifted a gloved hand and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second, thinking hard... 'that girl'... had said the same thing to him earlier! Had they guessed his identity?

The count moved to take a step back except his knees wobbled and cut out from under him, pitching him to the side. With flailing arms the tall man thought he had righted himself when in actuality he had overcompensated and was headed straight for the girl who was looking him with an odd expression. He lost sight of her face as his own buried into her well-endowed bosom. While at any other time he would have thoroughly enjoyed the encounter, this was not one of those moments. Grabbing her shoulders he lifted his head and righted himself, noticing that her strong hands were also helping him to maintain his balance. Adding insult to injury was the pitying look in her light blue eyes.

Milly didn't mind his impromptu dive as she could tell he was totally stewed in his own juices. This man was stinking drunk and probably wouldn't be able to get back to his hotel room without someone helping him. She looked back over her shoulder at the closest hotel, which was also theirs. She doubted that it was his since she would have seen him around their hotel if he had been staying there too. She sighed. Meryl was expecting her and was probably even at this moment wondering what was keeping her.

Looking back to study the man in front of her, she smiled despite the dark expression on his face, but in the next instant her nose wrinkled as she got a good whiff of him and waved a hand in front of her to disperse the fumes. Right at the moment he reminded her of Uncle Ubert when he was in his cups. Then she noticed that the smell, strangely enough, was already dissipating. Leaning her neck out a bit she took an experimental sniff. The smell _was _fading. Milly shook her head, the man was about ready to take a nose-dive for the dirt any second now but he didn't appear to be as drunk as when he first slid down the wall.

For the first time since their impromptu meeting, she looked him up and down closely. He was dressed all in black, although the cut of the clothes and the material told her that it was expensively made. At the wrists and throat was just a hint of white lace showing to soften the otherwise unrelieved velvet and silk sable of his outfit. At the moment it was wrinkled and reeked from alcohol. It was a more expensive cut of cloth than the one he had worn on the sandsteamer. Didn't someone on board call him a count of some sort?

The count could have cursed. He could feel himself sobering up with each passing second. He was hoping it would last longer this time.

"I think you look very handsome in black, it's a good color for you. The short hair looks better than that straggly ponytail, too. Hey, weren't you a light blond naturally?" His face drained of color, appearing as if he was about to faint. Milly stuck out a hand, ready to grab him if he passed out. "Sir, are you all right? Do you need me to walk you back to your hotel? I can carry you if you need me to."

The count's gaze sharpened with indignation. What? This human carry him? Not in this life or any other! He pushed her hand away and straightened up, swaying slightly as he did so.

"No. I do not require your assistance," he slowly and succinctly said, making sure none of his words were slurred, whereupon he fixed her with a hard-eyed stare. The light from the office fell across one side of his face, illuminating the blue-green of one eye but she could see the fierce scowl darkening his brow. She continued to smile.

"Ponytail, what are you talking about?" He lied, and quickly went on before she could answer, "Now then, what did you mean when you said, 'It's you?'" He growled at her in a voice meant to frighten.

Milly blinked at the man and tilted her head to study him; it was obvious to him then that his intimidation tactics were wasted on this one.

"Well, it's you... Ever since the theatre..." Confused, she peered at him closely, "Gee mister, I figured you were sweet on Meryl. It's really romantic that you are watching her from afar, too shy to come forward and declare your intentions." Milly clasped her hands together and lifted them up so she could rest her cheek on them, a smile showing dimples as she sighed deeply. They would make such a cute couple. (Although they'd have to do something about this drinking problem.) She spoke again, putting words to her thoughts, "And here he is, too humble and bashful so he's trying to work up his nerve with liquid courage." She sighed again, overcome with romantic images running through her mind.

Hearing a strangled gurgle, she looked up to see the man's staring at her in utter disbelief. Oh dear, had she let the cat out of the bag? Maybe he was one of those men who were so besotted and yet, were totally unaware of what was actually happening... men were so oblivious at times! Then an idea occurred to her and she leaned in to whisper, "Are you in disguise? You know," she winked at him, "so she won't recognize you before you reveal yourself at the perfect moment?"

Was the woman insane! Drawing himself up to his full height with as much dignity as he could manage and placing a hand over his chest said in a slow, clipped voice, more for his benefit than hers, "I am the Count of Augusta." It would have been more impressive had he not burped right then.

He waited for the eyes to widen, the adoring look and the fluttering of eyelashes in flirtation as all women did upon hearing the auspicious title. Instead, this girl's eyes merely twinkled merrily in amusement. Again, not a reaction he was used to.

"Okay," she threw a glance over her shoulder before looking back at him. "But I have to be going since I need to file one last report this evening. So I can't stay and visit anymore. Meryl should be back from shopping and if she gets back first and doesn't find me there, she will come looking for me. And I don't want her to worry." She cocked her head, finger resting on her cheek and then rolled her eyes to look at him. "You know Meryl tends to attract trouble so she needs me to watch out for her, but after all, that's what friends are for, right?" She giggled.

The count glared at her, totally baffled by her eccentric reaction to him and to his title. Sands! Not only was his title famous, he knew he was handsome; what the hell was wrong with her anyway! Everyone knew of the legendary counts of Gunsmoke. This woman acted as if he had just announced he was the gutter sanitary engineer rather than a powerful scion of the cream of the planet's aristocracy.

"See ya Mr... uh, whatever you call yourself! Have fun!" She lifted a hand in a cheery wave and whirled on her heel and was moving away at a fair pace before he could say anything in return, not that anything was coming to mind at the moment anyhow. He watched her go, her blond hair lit up and glowing under the illumination of the moons but then becoming nearly invisible in the shadows when she passed under the storefront awnings.

Staring after her receding figure with a growing frown, he wondered why he let these girls get under his skin. Soon she was lost to sight but with his acute hearing he could hear her footsteps ringing on the stone for a good while after that. The tall one was uncanny and he didn't even want to think about the ramifications of her observations and that small one earlier... _Ah geez, my head is starting to hurt. _Women!

The count turned in the opposite direction and started down the walk. He refused to look at the shattered slivers of glass marking the place of his lost precious amber drink. Moving at a fair and steady clip, it was hard to believe that only a short time ago he was stumbling drunk. Finally, he realized that he had no real set destination in store so he slowed to a stop under the overhang of a hardware store. As he stood there, musing over the options before him, he noticed the tall girl's partner coming out of the ice cream shop across the street.

Drawing back into the shadow of the overhang, he watched her as the short girl placed her hands on her hips while looking up and down the street. He knew whom she was searching for. He wondered if he should attract her attention but quickly scrapped that idea as he watched her turn in the opposite direction. She was about to start walking away when the door opened to the shop and an older woman with gray hair gathered in a bun stuck out her hand and said, "Here's the address of the other two shops who sell ice cream and the last one is a candy store. You can try there."

A teasing smile lifted the count's lips as he decided to follow her. It felt like old times since it had been a bit of a hobby to follow her about on the sandsteamer. He hadn't done it once since they had arrived and it was a way to relieve boredom, so why not now?

The count heard her murmuring her thanks and then she looked down at the slip of paper she had been handed. Tucking it into a pocket in her cape, she set off down the boardwalk at a steady, very businesslike pace. He decided to follow her again. Of late it had almost become habit. She seemed like one of those women who were so confident of their own abilities when in truth she was naive about the world around her.

It did seem to help him forget about his pain… He smiled faintly. The first time he'd ever slept with a woman was shortly after July City. He could just barely remember the details now. He sighed. _Hell; I can't even remember my hotel room…_

But this stupid little woman! The count continued to follow her, the buzz from the alcohol fading to the point that he was considering finding another bar. Now that some clarity of thought had returned to his mental processes, he knew he wouldn't give himself away as easily as with the other agent. This little one wasn't like any of the other women he had ever met, and he _wanted_ her… Almost to the point he was willing to take what she had even if she _wasn't_ willing to give it.

However, there were still a few more tricks he had up his sleeve in order to get her as his own. He had to play his cards right first. But not tonight, not when he was recovering from a drunken stupor such as this, and thoroughly pissed he'd lost both of his bottles… The count looked around as the little insurance girl disappeared into her hotel. Blinking, he realized he remembered this place… And if memory served, which he really wasn't sure it did, his own hotel was one more block down. With luck the bar would still be open.

His eyes twinkled, "Sleep well, sweet girl, because when you become mine, you won't have much chance to!" With a smirk, the count moved down the street in a much better mood. This was almost as fun as toying with his dear brother


	10. CH 9 Followed & Alleyway

_Thanks for hanging in there with us, it's been another crazy month! At least it hasn't been a full month since we posted the last chapter... Anyway, many of you have been really baffled by the Count - no worries, all will be revealed in time! And kudos to those of you who've already figured it out! Only a few more chapters before all will be revealed! In the meantime, we'd like to thank our reviewers: hope-is-4-ever, Redcliff, LilBrokenDolly, ReadingWhiz89, and the ever studious AineofKnockaine who's been waiting nearly FOREVER for this chapter to come out after getting to see Dwelllin's artwork for it! I hope you all enjoy!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 9**

**Followed & The Alleyway**

**Stardate: 08-22-0110-22:00**

That was it! She had her fill and wasn't going to put up with these shenanigans any longer. Meryl threw a suspicious glance over her shoulder. Goosebumps were forming on her arms and her heart was racing as her reaction swung erratically back and forth between fear and anger. She knew that she had been followed on several occasions in the past and here she was being tailed again! Of all the nerve!

It was probably that annoying spiky-haired jerk again, she fumed.

Aboard the sandsteamer there were those times when she had that feeling they were being followed, but she had never caught anyone. She had finally chalked those times up to a case of traveling jitters and working for too many hours pouring over the reports. Since arriving in town though she had that feeling again and decided she was right the first time. It had happened when she and Milly were visiting the Memorial Geo-Garden Dome commemorating those slain by Vash the Stampede. She and Milly had been solemnly strolling through the garden talking to each in the hushed tones and pointing out the different greenery and flowers.

They were impressed by the trellis arches liberally scattered throughout the path that wandered throughout the garden. The next thing that stopped them in their tracks was the stone garden with a variety of multi-colored stones with different kinds of moss growing between the artistically arranged rocks. Then came the stepping stones. Each one had a line of poetry engraved upon it starting with the line from Gunsmoke's famous poet laureate, "_Holes are unwished for things,..._" until the path ended with the last two stones with the ending lines "..._ tears are the unending stars, frozen against the night sky"_. Then, marking the beginning of a new path that led to another part of the garden, was a small monument that read, "_Only Love triumphs over time and death_." Meryl wondered if that too was a line from the famous poet before starting forward. She could hear soft sniffling coming from next to her.

The two subdued agents followed the new walkway that led the observer to a butterfly garden where a bronze plaque proclaimed the names of those who donated to finance the geo-dome garden. At the top was the name of the Count of Augusta, the major contributor.

It was all very lovely and impressive but the sight that had them misty-eyed and staring openmouthed was the moment they turned a corner and came to stand in front of, what the sign claimed was, a willow tree. Neither woman had ever seen anything more beautiful in their whole lives, except in the history books and the photos just did not do it justice. It was donated by the museum, apparently transplanted there as a special gift for this park. There was no way a tree of this scale could have been grown in the year since the incident.

They stood there enrapt at the sight for who knew how long. Finally, after casting cautious glances all around them to make sure they weren't being observed, both women kneeled, with tears dribbling down their cheeks, next to the tree and reached out hands to caress the trunk, awed and overwhelmed. To think, the planet that was the cradle of mankind had been covered with such specimens as this tree they were now touching. They could only stare at it and then at each other, the moment too deep, too strong for mere words to convey. Milly took one of the supple limbs and ran her fingers down to the end.

"It's green! And... it's alive!" She breathed with amazement. Looking over her shoulder first, she then plucked a leaf from it and slid it into the envelope of half-finished letters to the family.

"Milly!" Hissed Meryl as she whipped her head around to make sure Milly's action had gone unnoticed. Lucky for them the act had not been witnessed. She wasn't sure but it wouldn't surprise her if stealing a leaf from the tree could earn them a stiff fine or jail time. Neither would be a good thing at this point in time. "C'mon, there's still one more thing to see."

It was near the end of the garden, before the exit doors when they found the stone with the names of Connor and John placed there by their families and the Bernadelli Society. They stopped in front of the marker for a moment of silence to honor the dead men. Meryl couldn't help but wonder what it was that they had seen or even if there was information they were in possession but were unable to pass on when they were killed.

Upon hearing a sniff, she turned to see tears trickling down Milly's face. "Life is so unfair at times," the tall girl croaked out.

"True Milly, but as the old saying goes, 'it's the only boat afloat.'"

Milly looked at Meryl. "What does that mean?"

Meryl shrugged one petite shoulder, "I have no idea what it meant originally, but mainly that we are stuck with one life and one life only, and we must learn to make the best of it with the time that we have." Meryl had raised a finger and using her lecture voice. She could go on indefinitely if given the chance.

Milly grabbed Meryl in a hug and sobbed out, "That's so wise, Meryl, even if I don't know what it means."

After a few seconds of gagging noises, Milly released Meryl and set her down on her feet. Brushing at her clothes the shorter of two women cleared her throat and said, "Quite right, Milly. I'm glad to have a friend like you too. But, let's carry on now, can't get swept up into mushy, sappy emotional stuff, we need to keep a clear head at all times."

"Right Meryl. A clear head." Milly frowned so hard her face scrunched up.

Meryl rubbed her eyes for a moment before remarking, "Okay, not that clear."

"Hey, can we stop and get some ice cream? I saw a shop just a couple of streets over."

"Well, let me check my list first..." Meryl rummaged around in her cloak and pulled out a well-worn paper with a list written in neat handwriting. "Hmmm, check that, did that, mailed that, filed that, filled that out, telegrammed the chief..." She looked up at Milly's anxious expression, "Looks like we're good to go. Ice cream it is, then!"

It was right then, as she was smiling at Milly, when Meryl felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and knew that they were being watched. Then she heard the sound of a soft scrape of a boot nearby but when she turned to look there wasn't anyone in the immediate vicinity, not anyone that she could see at least.

That was the first time Meryl knew for sure that they were being spied upon and followed.

However, later in their room, upon questioning Milly, her tall friend just nodded and changed the subject. Really, where was that girl's mind anyway? It was time to nip this little trend in the bud.

As it was, she was pretty sure that this elusive shadow was trying to horn in on their territory and all their hard-earned work. Obviously it was because she and Milly were working the Stampede case and whoever it was wanted information. Didn't the Sheriff of New Barnsdall say as much? Well, they could hang her out to dry before one small iota of data, verification, testimonies, or clues were learned from her! If they wanted information then they could go find out for themselves!

As for this fine evening she would have bet earlier that she wasn't being tailed when she had been shopping, picking up personal items, or even when she first started searching for her partner. Meryl had kept her on a strict leash after Milly came home so late the first night. At least until this night, when her tall friend asked if she might have a few hours on her own to sample the other delectable delights in town, promising to be back early. Although, for the record, Milly was horrible at keeping an eye on the time. Especially when she could eat at four different establishments that sold ice cream and order the largest size each time, all in one day, completely drowning in the sugar! Who could do that? Milly, that's who.

Meryl wasn't sure when the first inkling of awareness began, letting her know that she was being followed as she walked along looking for her friend. After feeling the tickling rise of hairs on her neck she began paying more attention to her surroundings. First, all that could be heard was the sound of her boot heels before she realized that there were odd sounds here and there meant that she was indeed being tailed by her shadow once again.

One time there was a scuff of a boot, and then another, a darker shadow detaching itself from the black recesses of a narrow alleyway after she had passed by. It wasn't as if Meryl had a great deal of experience with this kind of thing, being rather new to the ways of skullduggery, but for days now her nerves were being stretched to a stress point that was about ready to snap. Meryl knew her temper and if she was going to snap it only made sense to make sure that it was pointed at the one who most deserved it.

Fuming now, as caution transformed into anger, she decided on a course of action.

She heard a soft step and finally, it happened. Higher reasoning left, logic disappeared, and common sense was thrown to the winds. Meryl did an about face and stormed back to the last dark alley mouth she had passed only seconds earlier.

The count leaned against the wall, the shadow of the tall building hiding him from the view of prying eyes. He was several yarz into the alley where the shadows were darkest and was chuckling in amusement. Watching that little one get stiffer and more rigid by the minute was putting him in a good humor once again. He almost didn't mind the fact he missed happy hour by following her. Almost.

Hearing a sound, he opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to find two derringers aimed straight at his face, the barrels an indistinct outline against the dim silhouette of her white clothing. Above that was the sight of a grim countenance, eyes dark with the purpling hues of a sunset glaring at him.

"What the hell..." He breathed out, taken by surprise. From now on he vowed, no more letting himself get distracted if she was able to sneak up on him like this!

"So, it's you again! Well, you're not horning in on my assignment, got it!" Meryl bristled at the man in the black outfit that blended with the shadows, her face tight with annoyance.

Smoothly he pushed away from the wall, and, with slow grace, turned to face the short woman head on. Leisurely he looked her over, seemingly unconcerned about having two guns shoved in his face at point blank range. Noticing the way the cape hung and moved about her he knew she was packing all of her guns tonight. Good thing for her she was armed to the teeth, a pretty thing like this could be accosted by a depraved lunatic in a dark alley with no one else around to come to her rescue. Maybe he should offer his assistance.

Again Meryl was staring up into the most extraordinarily colored eyes she had ever seen in her life. Not green, not blue, but a sort of bluish aqua. For a moment she forgot she was holding a loaded gun on another person as she stared up into a face that was only momentarily startled by her sudden appearance. She noticed he recovered quickly despite being at a disadvantage. In fact, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, she could see his eyes taking on a rather strange gleam in the dark alley as they peered down at her... and sands! Her eyes widened as they took in his height. He was a tall one, wasn't he? He was practically looming over her, with a leer on his face and eyebrow mocking quirked up at her obvious surprise. It quickly came home to her that this was the first time they were not out in public and completely alone together. _Oh crap, bad move Meryl..._ She noted the relaxed stance of his shoulders as he leaned against the brick wall and crossed his arms in front of him.

Right then it occurred to Meryl that, maybe, confronting her shadow wasn't one of her brightest ideas. Was it such a big deal if he wanted to follow them? Really, what was the harm in that? Let him! He wouldn't learn anything from her! Actually, now that the reality of the situation was coming home to her, she cast a quick look off to the side thinking that it was a good time for her to depart.

Returning her eyes back to his, she noted that he still wasn't showing any sign of discomfort and, in fact, a condescending smile was sliding across his face. She tried to think of something to say but clever witticisms, along with sarcasm failed her. Every etiquette book she had ever read failed to mention what to do and say upon those rare occasions when facing one's stalker. Invite them home for tea? Hand them a business card? Sell them an insurance package? Run like hell? She was going to go with that last option.

"Sorry, wrong number," she said and turned to dash off.

Except she couldn't. Meryl only had time for a small 'eep' of surprise before a quick snatching arm, as strong as steel, wrapped around her waist and scooped her up off her feet. With an ease that surprised her, she was gracefully, and lightly swung through the air and he was only using one arm! He dropped her so that she fell the last couple of inches and stumbled back against the wall. With an expelled breath she tried to lift her weapons but he merely reached out and with powerful fingers removed them from her as if she had no more strength in her hand than that of a child.

"I don't believe you will be needing these."

Meryl was stunned until she saw him toss her derringers into the deep recesses of the alley.

"Hey! My father gave those to me!" She started after them only to be blocked by a long sinewy arm.

"Do I look like a complete idiot? It would be foolish of me to let you retrieve them."

Meryl turned to face him, hands on hips in a position he was becoming very familiar with. "Listen buddy, I don't know who you are, but you are messing with the wrong girl." Out came the finger, waving like a defiant flag in front of his chest, he stared down at it, intrigued how it sped up with her rising indignation.

She fixed him with an irate stare, studying his face when it dawned on her that she did recognize him. A finger whipped up to point at his nose as she accused, "I KNEW I had seen you before! You are that man from outside the theatre..." She came to a stop as she studied him in suspicion through narrowed eyes.

"No way," he said slowly, his teeth tightly clenched, clearly remembering that first meeting, "You've got the wrong guy, lady." The count decided from that point on he would have to pick better disguises, maybe unbend a little and even have Elendira help him out with it…

She looked up at his hair. It was a flat brown tonight, which could either be a wig or a bad dye job. He had backed out of the shadow so that the rays of the moons slanted across his hair, showing how unnatural it looked. Really, if she weren't in a bad mood already the sight of it would have made her giggle. Instead, she lowered eyes, snapping with displeasure, to exchange glares with him.

"And in front of the geranium. Yep." She concluded in a rush of triumph before being dampened by the realization that she was _still _alone in a dark alley with a strange man and there wasn't a soul about. "But you know, I could be mistaken, it's been known to happen... well, not often, mind you, but I am sure it has before, at least once."

Then her eyes widened as she caught an odor drifting her way. Leaning forward she gave a sniff which she immediately regretted. His clothes stank! There was the reek of alcohol coming off of him in waves. "You've been drinking!" She said accusingly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He grinned down at her, watching a pert tiny nose rise in the air and it wasn't so she could get a better whiff either.

"Hmmph, well, what you do is none of my business unless it is my business, which it is when you have been following us. Your skulking about has been most annoying. If you want to find out anything about Vash the Stampede..."

He interrupted her, leaning over, his face hovering inches above hers as his eyes suddenly turned bitter cold and hard, "Who says I want to know anything about..."

She interrupted him right back, not even pausing to take a breath, "...You can go down to the local convenience store and pick up any number of lurid and questionable magazines filled with the most ludicrous gossip about the Stampede."

The small excitable female was waving an arm in wide circles behind her in the vague direction of the storefronts. "But I will not have you following us around trying to butt in on our assignment, do you understand me!" She stomped a tiny foot to make her point.

Her eyes had lightened to a sparkling periwinkle with cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink. Unable to help himself, an unaccustomed smile tilted awkwardly across his face while he stared intently at her, feeling a sense of primal hunger wash over him.

He was just standing there, looking down at her with the strangest expression and Meryl could swear his eyes were so bright that they were practically glowing.

Damn but he wanted her. He made a slight movement with his hand, which she caught and tried to back up which she couldn't since her back was already flush to the brick wall behind her.

"Fun's over now, buster!" She put on a stern, forbidding frown and said firmly, "Well, I am glad we had this little conversation. Okay then... I must be off." She made a move to leave when the other arm shot out, blocking her path. Now she was hemmed in on both sides. Meryl turned back to glare up at him and tucked a hand in for another derringer, except he easily caught it before it could disappear into the folds of her cape. With a soft snort, he wrapped long, thin fingers around hers, encompassing her whole hand in his larger leather-clad one. She tugged on her hand even as she stared up at him. With widening eyes she noticed his face was descending toward hers.

He whispered, "I don't think so." And then did what he had been wanting to do since that very first night in front of the movie theatre. He leaned in and caught her mouth with his. Her lips were silky smooth, although tight with shocked indignation at first, and, he noted, while inhaling deeply, she smelled like honeysuckle. In short, the short girl was delicious. With a measure of irritation he wondered how he could get her back to his hotel room without causing too much commotion because he wanted to take her there, as in _right now_. He leaned in closer, pressing against her smaller perfect body, pinning her against the wall.

Meryl was startled but went for a derringer with her free hand when he snared that one too, strong, lean fingers wrapped around her tiny wrist. How did he do that, his eyes were closed! And she should know because hers weren't! That dirty sand skunk! This was her very first kiss and he had stolen it! As soon as she got a hand free she was going to pepper his hide! Yes that was... the... idea... With fuzzy awareness, Meryl realized she was having difficulty putting together a coherent thought.

Whatever plans of escape she had been formulating vanished, were replaced by something she wasn't expecting and was unfamiliar with, leaving her with trembling limbs and racing heart. Almost without being aware of her actions she instinctively leaned in and started to kiss him back, pressing closer, sculpting her form against the hard muscles of his body. He tasted like a heady mixture of whisky and spice. It was not a combination that she would normally be drawn to, but at the moment she found it wildly irresistible. His lips were firm, yet communicating insatiable hunger for more, and unexpectedly, warm, sending that tingling warmth from their joined lips throughout her body. His lips held and molded hers to his and she could feel her world shrinking down into this one sensation. Not only that, but her knees were starting to quiver and she wondered if they were going to collapse out from underneath her. He must have felt it because he dropped the grip he had on her hands and slid his arms around her lower back, pulling her against him in a tight protective embrace. It was everything she could do to keep her arms from slipping around his slim waist. With thoughts swimming and cheeks flaming she realized she didn't want this to end. Her heart skipped with an intensity that frightened her even as she opened her mouth underneath his urging, not sure what it was that he wanted or what was happening to her.

For a long moment he held her there, before pulling back until his lips barely grazed hers. Then in a languid lift of his head, he saw the mystified expression in her half-closed, periwinkle-gray eyes. With a grin he stated softly, yet with something indefinable in his tone that made her shiver in response, "Want me to do that again?"

Snapping out of the hazy state she had been in, she lied boldly, "Uhhhh... NO! Of course not! Field agents... uhm... Aren't allowed to let their er... Personal feelings get... Uh... In the way of duty, and er, all that... um stuff."

Smiling skepticism met her eyes as he continued to gaze down at her. She gave him her most ferocious frown which only had the effect of making him chuckle. "Feelings, huh?" He grinned in amusement at the stunned expression crossing her face as she realized what she had said.

"You don't sound very convincing you know." He pointed out, still vastly amused by the tiny scowl she was leveling at him, and reached up to softly caress a velvet cheek with a gloved finger. He leaned in closer, lips hovering over her cheek and asked in a low, husky whisper that sent his breath in soft puffs against her flushing skin, "So short girl, I'm curious, what is it exactly that you are feeling?"

"Heads up, everyone!" Came a shout from the mouth of the alley.

The count spun away from her in such a rapid movement it was like watching him disappear into thin air and then reappear again only a couple of feet away. It was odd, but it seemed to Meryl like he was deliberately standing in such a way as to shield her. She shook her head to clear it. Nonsense, she was only imagining things.

The short girl grinned when she caught sight of the person at the end of the alley. Of course she knew who it was as soon as the voice began speaking. Milly to the rescue!

Her shadow looked back at her over his shoulder with a fierce and possessive expression on his face that made her catch her breath in her throat. Just then Meryl heard the familiar thudding sound of three of the stun gun bullet's being fired one right after the other and ducked. She was no stranger to what Milly could do with her gun. The stranger turned back to face Milly but it was already too late.

The first bullet spread out in the familiar 'X'-shape as it left the barrel, hit him in the chest, knocking him back several paces so that he was off balance. The next hit him lower and Meryl tried to ignore the excessive use of foul language exploding from his lips until the third cross bullet sent him flying back, deeper into the shadows of the alley. What followed was the loud crash of his landing.

Meryl didn't waste any time; she sprinted out to Milly, grabbing her by the elbow and sparing only enough breath to shout, "RUN!"

Milly threw her stun gun over one shoulder and both women took off down the street not bothering to look behind them.

They both ran and didn't stop until they were inside the lobby of their hotel, panting and puffing. When Meryl finally had her enough of her breath back she could say to Milly, from the counter of the front desk she was leaning against, "Thanks, Milly! I owe you one."

"You weren't in the room when I got back," puffed Milly who was standing with her stun gun resting over her shoulder. The clerk was stared at them dubiously. When Milly smiled at him and gave him a friendly wave he hastily dropped his eyes back to his work.

"So I came looking for you," she continued, "I kinda freaked out back there… But you know..." Milly wasn't sure how to phrase this knowing how touchy Meryl could be at times, "It really didn't look like he was hurting you." Milly smiled and hugged the stun gun that was still in her arms. Finally the mystery man, whatever his name was, had decided to show Meryl how he felt! She was elated for her friend, even if Meryl wasn't… She was actually sorry that she hadn't recognized him sooner, if it wasn't for that wig Milly probably wouldn't have shot him. Maybe she'd send him a dozen donuts later.

Meryl growled deep in her throat and stared hard at her partner before answering. "I am not so certain about that," she replied, pushing off from counter. "You didn't see the look in his eyes. I think he was most put out with me." She began to blush as she relived the kiss and the fluttery sensation he had started in her stomach with the first touch of his velvety warm lips covering hers. She was very thankful that Milly had arrived when she had. After all, as the senior partner she was even more aware of the responsibilities that went along with their assignment and she had a duty to uphold the integrity and moral... _oh screw it, Meryl!_ She could chide herself later, she wasn't in the mood right now.

* * *

"Master, are you injured?" Came the smooth voice not sounding too worried.

"What does it look like!" The count pushed trashcans off of him so that they rolled to the side as he lifted his eyes to glare up at Elendira. "Where the hell have you been anyway? This could have been avoided…"

She bent over him with an extended hand which he took and used to pull himself upright. The Count of Augusta, humanitarian award winner, richest man on the planet, Memorial Garden fundraiser, and Gunsmoke's foremost philanthropist, brushed garbage off of his coat while scowling at the mouth alley where the girls had disappeared.

"Clever thinking on her part to have backup ready," mused the cool, detached voice of the Crimson Nail.

"I doubt that was planned." He plucked a banana peel off his sleeve and tossed it to the side with a disgusted glance.

"We have a problem though. Both of them recognized me from the sandsteamer." He flicked his toe so that the orange peel clinging to the end of his boot flew off to the side.

The cross dresser shrugged, considering the matter insignificant and unimportant enough to worry about. But unable to stop herself, grinned mischievously and asked, "However did they penetrate that amazing disguise, oh master of illusion?"

Elendira moved in and the count stopped brushing off the coffee grounds clinging to the front of his coat and warily watched her step up close to him. One leather-gloved hand reached up and wiped pieces of eggshell from his shoulder.

"You test the line," he informed her coldly. Elendira merely smiled at him as she stepped back away from him.

"As you say, Master."

There was a pause as he checked to make sure the more noticeable of the trash was gone from his person. He would have to have the whole outfit sent out to the cleaners, it reeked, and not only from the garbage he had landed in.

"Do you want her, Master?"

His head snapped up to see the cross dresser tilting her head at him, curious.

"Why do you ask, as if it was any of your business," he asked, voice colder than ice.

"Your happiness is my business and I could easily procure her for you to enjoy, Master."

"Dammit all, if I want her I will retrieve her myself! I don't need any help!"

"Of course not, it was impudent of me to imply such a thing." Elendira dipped her head in a respectful bow. She was thoroughly enjoying this. If the women kept avoiding him like this for long perhaps he'd give up to a more _willing_ fare. "What are your wishes, Master?"

Through narrowed eyes he studied the Crimson Nail. He didn't trust his lieutenant anywhere near his little... he stopped mid-brush wondering. His prey? His toy in the grand game? His chess piece on strings? Whatever, he would pick the time and place. He certainly didn't need any help from Elendira.

Stepping away from the pile behind him, he passed by Elendira without looking at her, "Come. We are going to leave them to their own devices for a while. I need an update on everything that you know. I'm sure there are plans that need my attention. And besides..."

"Yes, Master," Elendira said, as she fell into step behind him.

"I need your help in finding a better disguise."

Elendira lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow, and with a smirk replied, "Yes, Master."

* * *

**Can't This Wait Until Morning?**

**Stardate: 08-23-0110 0:00**

"He's the one who has been following us." Milly informed her as both women climbed the stairs to the second floor as their room was near the head of the stairs. It was quicker to walk up then it was to wait for the elevator to take them there.

"Wait just a darn minute here! You knew?" Meryl did an abrupt halt in the middle of the staircase and turned to look down at her partner behind her. "How come you didn't tell me before this! Milly! In order to make informed decisions I need to know stuff like this!"

Oh-oh. Meryl was getting excitable, red in the face, and starting to wave her arms around regardless of who might be in the hall watching. There was only one thing to do and that was to employ the tactics Milly had learned in dealing with all her little nephews and nieces. Since it seemed to work on Meryl as well, if one played it just right, she used it every now and then to distract her more volatile friend.

"So, did he say why he has been following us?" Milly tipped her head. "He has been since December, you know."

"Well I do now! Thanks for the update! Geez, Milly, a little heads up from now on would be nice!" Meryl gave her partner a critical glance as she started up the stairs again.

Milly smiled sweetly at Meryl's stiff back as she followed her partner up the rest of the stairs. The smaller of the two did not like complications that were outside of what was expected, which is why Milly suspected that Meryl's running admonition that they always be ready for surprises was more for herself than her partner. As laid back as Milly appeared, unexpected goings-on rarely bothered her, as things like that came part and parcel with a large, extended family. Meryl, though, being an only child, stressed out over unforeseen and unanticipated events at every turn. Meryl was a little uptight and needed to relax more. At least that was Milly's unspoken opinion. Maybe she should have given the count and Meryl a little more time before interrupting them.

Despite the last comment Milly knew that her partner's mind was already occupied with the puzzle of wondering why the stranger in black was following them. She would even bet that Meryl formulated several theories already.

"I wouldn't doubt that he knows where we are staying," grumbled Meryl while inserting the key and unlocking the door. "I wonder if we should check into another hotel... But then again, there are only so many hotels in this town and it would be an easy matter to track us down."

Meryl let the door swing open but didn't enter so that Milly, who was moving to go in, bumped into her from behind. She looked down at her smaller friend with questioning eyes before snapping them up to search the dark room with a suddenly alert frown and lowering her gun to aim it into the dark.

Leaning into the room without her feet crossing the threshold, Meryl reached for the light switch and flipped it on. Two sets of suspicious eyes scanned the place for anything out of the ordinary.

Their luggage was still neatly stacked in the corner and the curtains were undulating in the bit of breeze that flowed through the open window. Nothing was out of place or looked as if it had been disturbed.

Meryl gave a snort and Milly couldn't tell if it was one of disappointment or satisfaction. They entered and Milly set her gun in the corner by her bed so that it was within reach in case they were attacked, which she doubted they would be at this point.

The shorter girl inspected the room. Then turning to look at her partner with a frown, she pounded a fist into a palm. "This won't do, Milly. It won't do at all!"

Oh great, Meryl was upset. "What won't do, Meryl?" Milly asked tiredly as she shucked off her duster and hung it in the closet. This could be a long night. If thoughts were spinning like windmills in Meryl's mind it meant that there was a good chance she would be up all night and if that was so, then it meant Milly would have to deal with Meryl's grouchiness the next day. Milly luckily, could sleep through just about anything, so losing sleep wasn't a big issue with her. She just prayed that Meryl wasn't on a tear about something; she really wanted to go to bed and get some sleep. It had been a very long day.

"We cannot give our full attention to tracking down Vash the Stampede if we are continually looking over our shoulders to see who is following us. I won't have it, Milly; we are the ones doing all the work! I won't have someone else hanging onto our coattails! What if they are going to just get him all riled up to the point that he just pops off again! It could be bad, really, really bad. I can see it now, mounds of debris, fire, disaster, destruction, whole cities going up in smoke..."

"MERYL!"

Meryl stopped her panicky tirade to notice that Milly was frowning at her.

"Don't invite a wild toma into the house!" Milly scolded. For a second she held the frown before it melted off and her customary smile replaced it.

"Think of it this way." One finger came up to tap her chin as she rolled her eyes in thought. "It could be a win-win situation."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems to me that he is going follow us around no matter what since he already has from December on..."

Meryl nodded in agreement.

"Then he will continue to follow us, right?" She looked over to see Meryl nod again. "Well, how about we let him follow us and every so often feed him false information? Also, it seems to me that if he is following us, then we know where he is and what he is doing."

Meryl's eyes lit up with pleasure.

"You are a genius, Milly! Brilliant! And then we can find out if he is working for himself or for someone else! I am putting that in the next report!" Meryl enthused and in automatic response, started to head toward her typewriter to immediately write a report when Milly caught her arm.

"No!"

The petite woman turned too astonished to speak. Milly never said 'no' to her.

Milly looked around for a second as if suspecting someone was in the room with them. Meryl also peered around before turning back to face her friend.

"Well?"

Speaking in a hushed tone, Milly explained, looking down as she fiddled with the clasp on one suspender, "Meryl, something odd is going on at the company and I don't think you should tell them that we were being followed and especially don't tell them what we are going to do about it."

Meryl's mouth dropped open. Milly? Her Milly was thinking like a spy for a change? And how long had Milly been thinking these things? However, as Meryl slowly processed the information she had to admit that there was a ring of truth to what Milly was saying. Ever since they had been handed this assignment, something out of the ordinary had been going on. Still; her brows creased with uncertainty, this was their first job and neither girl had previous experience before this to compare it with to be able to know for sure.

Nodding once again, she agreed, "Okay, Milly, we will play this your way because I think you are onto something here. Things have been decidedly odd from day one, although I am not sure I agree with you about it originating from within the company. Although Bernadelli has acted very strangely…"

Meryl lifted her nose and Milly knew she was about to make an announcement. "Mr. Bernadelli would never be involved in any kind of activity that even hinted at anything criminal or illegal. He's just not that kind of man. It has to be someone either higher up, or..." her brow puckered in thought, "someone with access to the same information that we do." Milly had her doubts but wisely decided to hold her tongue about that subject and instead, turned to the matter at hand.

Milly was inclined to agree, didn't she hear Papa say once to Clive that things weren't always what they seemed at the Big Place? "Okay, Meryl, but no typing tonight. We need our sleep so we can be rested for the morning." That was a good argument to trot out and one that she made sure not to overuse.

"Right you are! We will start thinking up misinformation and misdirection as soon as the first sun rises!"

Milly groaned, she couldn't even think of anything at first light except for 'Ten more minutes, please!'


	11. CH 10 New Osaka

_Sorry it's taken so long, this chapter has gone through multiple revisions! For all of you summer readers, don't fret, we're getting back on our writing toes and plugging away, hopefully a lot faster now... hopefully! Readers who like fanart, see my Geocities account for brand new stuff from Sunsilver/Dwellin. We'd like to thank our devoted reviewers AineofKnockaine and hope-is-4-ever of course, for the wonderful reviews last chapter! Hope you like this one!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"**

* * *

** _

**Chapter 10**

**New Osaka Town**

**Stardate: 09-01-0110 15:00**

A tall man stood in the shadow of the storefront's overhang, chewing on a long stem of wild grass as it dangled from his lips. Not only did his outlandish attire snag many a look but so did the rare sight of a curved katana hanging from his hip. Still, it was the sight of the stalk of dried rare greenery that drew the most startled of stares. Unknown to the casual observer, it was the man's habit to chew on one for days, slowly drawing out the subtle flavor that needed to be gently, patiently coaxed from the once-living blade. Observing the quick glances in his direction, one corner of his mouth twitched up in mild amusement, for he considered himself the true embodiment of a living blade.

Although many studied him with curiosity as they passed by, none spoke to him and none elicited more than a mild flick from his dark, narrow eyes as he relaxed against the wall. There was plenty of time for him to ruminate and watch the ebb and flow of the crowd around him. Granted it was a small crowd, for this was not one of the major cities, just a little map dot on the bus route from November City to Marchville. This tiny village's population rose and shrank with the tides caused by the busses that stopped to fuel up and change drivers. Not many passengers getting off the bus stayed for long; they usually went to the diner for food or went into this store for supplies. Rarely did anyone get off the bus to stay longer than a few days. This was not the kind of place that ordinary folk considered a spot for settling down. The only reason there was a town here was because it was route between the two cities, a way-station of sorts.

In a couple of hours, the streets would quiet down again. Either way, it didn't matter to him. He was waiting for a message. In a few days he would make the final decision on how the blade of his existence would be wielded and who would have the honor of using him as a living weapon. What was different was that for the first time ever it was up to him, and not some lord to whom he owed his allegiance, to choose the path he would walk. This freedom was rather unsettling, for he wasn't used to being unyoked. Right now, he was like the rest of humanity, the survival for existence diverting him from his true calling of being the ultimate, finely honed weapon: Rai Dei, the Living Blade.

He moved the hard stem over to the other side of his mouth as he watched the stream of humanity parade past him, his hand resting ever so cautiously upon the pommel of his blade. They were the tide from the three buses that had arrived at roughly the same time late that morning, pulling into the station chugging out black fumes along with loud banging mufflers to herald their arrival. "_Noisy insects_," thought Rai Dei. He was glad that they would be leaving soon, although he wished his own departure would hasten along. It wasn't pleasing to him to be uncertain of his future mission.

About this time the sound of two voices cut clear through the normal mutter of the flow of people passing him. He was alerted to the two approaching musical voices by the rise and fall of their conversation long before they came into sight. For some reason that eluded him, he was immediately intrigued. They were different from the frowning, impatient mob with their sharp voices and distracted air. Even though the shorter of the pair spoke with precision while emphatically puncturing the air with quick hand motions as she drove her point home, her voice was sweet and in perfect pitch. The taller one, surprisingly enough, had a higher tone of voice but it was melodic and cheerful. That alone would have caught his attention. No one here was cheerful.

He looked them over with the eyes of a warrior assessing his opponent. Already he noted their strengths and weaknesses, and that certain extra something that surrounded the two of them that set them apart from those they were traveling with. There was something hard to define about them and since he chose to communicate through action rather than words, he was at a loss to describe what it was that ensnared his attention. Perhaps it was the fact they carried so many weapons between them. He could tell by the way their clothing rustled about them as they walked toward him. At the same time, it amused him to watch these two physically mismatched girls as they chattered back and forth. Then he gave them another sharp look and altered his first estimation. These two were not girls any longer, but young ladies in bloom, teetering on the verge of full womanhood. There was ample time to study them as they headed his way, oblivious to his presence and inspection.

"Okay, here's the place, just like the driver said," commented the short one, nodding at the door so that her bangs lightly danced across her forehead.

The tall one tilted her head as she listened, smiling pleasantly, almost vacantly. One could easily think that she was mentally deficient in some way, except he could see the intelligent flash of humor in her eye that might otherwise go unnoticed.

As they came to a stop the tall one happened to look up and catch his eye, and he found himself lost in the open, light blue depths that hinted at hidden treasures below the surface. Rai Dei caught his breath. He was one who read the weave of fate as it twisted in and out of people's lives. Usually, though, it was in the lives of people who would and could change the very making of history, great and mighty men and women in places of power. Not two ordinary girls like these. Yet; his eyes shifted from one to the other and back again, and yet, the very air hung heavy around them. He would watch these two, for now.

The shorter one poked her friend in the shoulder, causing her to break her gaze and return it to her shorter friend.

"Milly, are you paying attention?" The little one fussed.

The tall blond nodded, smiling merrily, "Sure Meryl, you said get supplies while you go mail our last three reports and check the news for any sightings of..."

"Milly!"

"Right..." The tall one nudged her shorter friend with an elbow, gave a broad wink before saying in a sotto voce that called more attention to it than concealed, "'You-know-who'."

The raven-haired one slapped a tiny hand over her face and then pinched the bridge of her nose with eyes scrunched close for a brief moment. Then dropping her hand away she looked back up to her friend and nodded. "Right. Do you need me to make out a list of the things we need? Remember, we need... _special _supplies." Unconsciously, she waggled her eyebrows at her partner who, puzzled, returned it with a fair imitation of her own. Milly, thinking Meryl was talking in hushed tones because of she was discussing their assignment, shot a cautious glance over her shoulder at the crowd passing them by without a sign of interest, and then another one toward Rai Dei, who averted his gaze. He looked odd, but he seemed more interested in the blade of grass he was sucking on.

Leaning in toward Meryl, she whispered, sotto voce, "Special supplies?" Questioned the blonde.

"Yessssss!" Meryl enunciated in a hiss and stared hard at her friend. "Special. Supplies." Upon receiving just a blank stare she asked with a sigh, "Do you need me to come in with you? Because it's not a problem, you know."

"Nope, sure don't! You said you needed..." Here the blonde leaned over a bit, lifted one finger pointed upward, and said in low tone, "Suuuuupliiiiiiiies." She drew out the word with such flair that even Rai Dei knew what it was that the one named Meryl was in need of. She was turning an interesting shade of beet red. Then the one named Milly gave Meryl another wink in the 'just-between-us' fashion.

"Right." Meryl shook her head and said something under her breath.

"What was that, Meryl?"

"Nothing. Let's just get started so we can get this over with and get back to the bus."

"Okee dokee! See ya in a while, Meryl!" The tall blonde sang out and pushed through the front door of the store.

The raven-haired one, despite her business-like air, walked lightly, with a lively spring in her step that brought a slight smile to Rai Dei's face before she was swallowed up in the brisk flow of people hurrying to get their shopping finished. With the short one gone, he slipped into the store himself and found a spot to stand near where two old men were playing a game of checkers on a pickle barrel, crossing his arms over his chest. One hand found the hilt of his sword; it was an unconscious caress as he never went anywhere without it, even in a town so pitifully weak as this.

He resumed watching the tall girl who was ticking off the list of things to buy on her fingers. When she came to 'special supplies' she did an automatic eyebrow waggle imitating her friend's brow gesture of earlier. Then, with a small pucker forming, she wondered out loud, "I wonder why Meryl wouldn't come out and just say what she wanted? Well," she added with a shrug of her shoulders, "Good thing I know what it is! I better make sure to get several packages!" With that she smiled and began humming as she started rummaging through the shelves.

Rai Dei couldn't tell what it was that possessed him to push off from the wall to follow her into the store originally. It had been quite some time since he had felt sense of overwhelming curiosity about anyone. At least not toward anyone who was physically and mentally weaker than himself. However, there was nothing on his hands except the weight of ennui that had been hung over him for days now. The messenger was late and he had nothing better to do. He followed the sound of the hum, a pleasing sound that filled him with indescribable warmth. He would use his spare time observing.

Nothing happened for a quarter of an hour. He spent that time listening to her chat with other customers, ask questions about where to find things, and followed her as she wandered about with no discernable plan to her actions. At first glance she appeared to be an airhead and there were times as acted the part; but then, with just a glance or a word she would prove that to be a fallacy. She was an intriguing mystery and he soon found himself wondering where she was going, and what was so important to bring her to these drier parts of the planet.

Finally came the moment of meeting, and it wasn't even his doing. Normally he was swift on his feet and had an almost psychic ability that was quick to sense movement before it happened. His surprise was immense when he turned and saw her standing only a few feet from him, staring at him with a shy smile. His stalk drooped as his mouth opened slightly in surprise. He could have sworn that only seconds ago she had been at the other end of the aisle, and yet, here she was.

Still smiling at him she commented, "I've never seen a man wear a dress before." She leaned in, whispering, "Is it because of your religion?" And then politely waited for him to answer. When he didn't she asked again, "Or maybe you are cooler in a skirt?"

He blinked again as the shock wore off.

She then pointed to his side, not deterred in the least by his silence, "That's a neat sword, it's not military issue is it? I've never seen one all curvy like that before."

He blinked again--how had she gotten beside him without him knowing it?

"My goodness, and I think your hair is longer than mine!" She pointed to the topknot at the back of his head. "If I put mine up like that it always falls down. I don't know how you are able to keep your hair band from slipping out."

"You are not a samurai..."

"No, of course not!" She giggled. "I'm work for the Bernadelli Insurance Society as a Risk... er hang on a minute." She frowned and rummaged through the pockets of her voluminous trench coat with the free hand. Finally she found a card and pulled it out and handed it to him. "I'm actually supposed to be asking everyone if they know anything about Vash the Stampede. I don't always like having to talk to complete strangers, but it's a heck of a lot better than reading those horrible dime novels." Milly cringed inwardly remembering the drivel she had to finish reading before she and Meryl had left the Morphus and in the subsequent weeks they'd been riding on the bus.

Rai Dei lifted the card up and read it before lowering it again to give her a look of disbelief. A Risk Agent indeed. And looking for Vash the Stampede? That had to be a fluke, who would give one of the most dangerous jobs Bernadelli had ever created since their founding to inexperienced girls? He had met several agents in the past and most of them had the look of experienced, hard-eyed ex-military men. This girl, woman rather, with her sweet smile, open and cheerful demeanor looked more like a store clerk, not a hunter tracking down ruthless criminals. "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about him."

He started to hand the card back when she gestured for him to keep it, telling him, "That's okay, I have plenty more. Just in case you do find out anything, you'll know how to reach me, okay?"

Rai Dei pocketed the card within the voluminous fold of his loose garments and then watched, a little wary but curious, as she burrowed around in her bag, face totally inside along with her searching arm. He could hear her muttering into the bag about 'it' being in there somewhere. This creature was certainly... odd. Finally, the friendly blonde lifted her head and with a pleased grin stretched out her hand to hold something out to him. Alert to the possibility of it being harmful, he looked it over first before reaching out his hand that seemed to move of its own accord. He didn't know what made him do so, as he was not a trusting individual. However, he could sense not a shred of guile or wickedness in her. He looked at what was proffered in her hand. It was a small container. He looked up at her in puzzlement.

"You look like you need this. Here." She placed it in his extended palm. Seeing his mystified stare, she explained, "It's pudding! It will make your tummy smile! I can always tell when there is something missing in a person's life."

With shocked eyes he looked up to see the sincere affability and a smile so wide it was revealing her dimples. Was she an enlightened one that could read the secrets of a person's soul? With narrowing eyes he studied her face, looking for any sign of hidden wisdom. All he saw was a slight golden dusting of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks and light blue eyes dancing merrily at him. So average, yet so enigmatic.

Just as a question was framing his lips, she hefted the large bag up, readjusting her hold on it, and then lifted a freed hand to wave at him. "Bye! Nice meeting you!" With that, the tall blonde woman turned and sailed out the door humming a bubbly little tune.

Rai Dei looked down to find that the object in his hand was indeed a small plastic cup of pudding. The label indicated that it was chocolate and caramel swirl. His eyebrows went sailing up: it was two of his favorite flavors.

* * *

**Down the Street **

"I'm telling you missy, ya jes missed him. He waren't here but ten minutes near 'nuff!" Here the gentleman behind the counter spat out a stream of brown juice into the tin can at his feet. Then he threw a disgusted look around at the mess his store was left in after the gang had sought, fought, and finally purchased their goods. His place, the Rough-n-Tumble, was a desert mercantile and outfitter's store for those who would be spending a great deal of time out in the wastes. The gang had practically pawed through everything he had stocked and then left the unwanted merchandise in piles on the floor and counters.

"I guess I shouldn't complain since they always pay for their supplies, but they sure'n do make a right mess of things, they do." He hawked up and spat out a dark gobbet of spittle to the side of him, not noticing Meryl's wince of disgust. She smoothed out her features before he looked back up at her, giving him her fake sincere smile. His face was on her level even though he was taller than she was, but his stooped shoulders and his head hanging low between them put her in mind of a vulture, albeit a very woeful one.

Meryl had been on her way from the post office and had heard two men talking in front of the store about Vash the Stampede and his men just having been there and stirring up the joint. Meryl had stopped in her tracks to ask them when this was and was astonished to find out it had happened only a few short moments ago. Upon hearing that, she barreled through the doors between the two surprised and irritated men to demand information from the proprietor. Maybe he didn't care who it was that was interrogating him but she was glad that he didn't ask to see any of her credentials, as she left them in her carry-on which was still on the bus. However, she was glad that he was content to oblige her desire for information. He explained in careful detail everything that had happened.

"Do they come in here often?" Meryl asked, not realizing she was holding her breath as she waited for the answer, resting her forearms on the counter so she could lean closer to him.

"Oh sure'n 'nuff, every few weeks er so. They's got a band of menfolk so they do be needing their provisions right offen ya know, just like most folk, no matter being they be the Stampede's gang."

He found himself backing away from the intense gaze of those dove gray orbs with the periwinkle highlights. Why did his place always attract the peculiar ones? She had seemed so harmless at first sight, but now a fierce determination radiated from her person, making her seem taller all of a sudden. If he didn't know who it was she was seeking, he would feel sorry for them, but since it was the Stampede, he was sure the outlaw could take care of himself. It had been his experience, out here in the middle of nowhere, with the desert surrounding them on all sides, if one went looking for the devil, they sure didn't have to tire out their eyeballs searching. One was always bound to pop up sooner or later.

Just then a small hand grabbed a fistful of the material of his shirt and gave it a sharp yank. He found himself nearly nose to nose with eyes now more purple than gray.

"Which way did he go? This is important!" Meryl demanded in a quick, firm voice.

He lifted an arm and gestured over her shoulder. Turning her head, she followed the direction in which his finger was pointing. "My guess is, he'll be where he always is when he ain't here. The Dancing Cat. Cain't miss it. It's the last building on the edge of town at the end of this street.

"Thanks, mister." She turned to go but heard him ask one last question as she grabbed for the handle of the door.

"Are ya gonna go fer the reward missy? Little scrap like you?"

With a grin and a shake of the head she said, "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. That bounty was lifted last week…"

He nodded, relieved, at least until he heard the rest.

"I mean to bring him under twenty-four hour surveillance and curtail his destructive tendencies!" Upon saying that, Meryl breezed out the door on her mission to track down her prey.

The door swung back into place with a final click. "Takes all kinds of odd out here in the boondocks," muttered the old man to himself. "Maybe I should give some notion to retiring."

* * *

**Meeting The Legendary Gunman**

**Stardate: 09-01-0110 16:00**

As the short-insurance girl dashed down the boardwalk in search of her quarry, she promptly forgot about the old man, her mind fixed on the impending meeting with the planet's most notorious outlaw, Vash the Stampede. With rising excitement, Meryl caught a glimpse of a building that looked like what she expected a saloon to look like and she made for it. It was an old stone building, the color of sand and had a decrepit sign hanging out front. The paint was peeling away so that all she could read was 'ancin at'. It was close enough for her to know it was the establishment she was looking for.

It was beyond belief that she and Milly were in the same town as Vash the Stampede! She could feel a flush rising up her neck with at the anticipation of finally meeting him. She hoped he wouldn't make a fuss upon learning his new status and the arrangements others had made in his behalf, or rather, on the behalf of the safety of about every other person who would have the dubious pleasure of being in the same vicinity as the devil's helper, the waster of whole cities.

After all the searching, the moment was finally upon them! She couldn't believe their luck! The only thing that concerned her though was what the old man had said about Vash running with a gang. Since when? Meryl had not seen one shred of evidence in any of the reports that indicated it was Stampede & Associates. Sometimes there were reports of one or two men with him while others emphatically stated that he was alone when a certain incident happened. Still, one or two men did not a gang make.

She slowed to a jog, wondering if she should go get Milly first before seeking out the outlaw on her own. Indecision brought her to a walk as she struggled on which of the two courses of action she should take. Finally she decided that the outlaw might give them the slip in the time that it would take for her to track down her partner and return. That couldn't be allowed to happen! With a slight pucker forming between her eyebrows, she set her face resolutely toward the door and grabbed the handle, only to hesitate a moment to listen to the cacophony coming from behind the closed doors.

_Courage, Meryl. You can do this. _

With that inner encouragement, her mouth settled into a straight line, she took a deep breath and gathered her courage. Meryl was quite certain she was about to step into a den of iniquity where wicked activities and dealings were a common occurrence. Letting out that breath, she pushed through the door but only moved in a couple of steps when the loud ruckus froze her in place. Thoroughly prepared for a variety of vices and sins to assault her eyes, she was surprised at the deafening noise attacking her ears upon first entry. Taking a moment to adjust to the noise level, Meryl scanned the crowd looking for the womanizing Humanoid Typhoon. _Probably covered in a mob of half-naked gyrating women_! Periwinkle orbs darkening to the same color of purple that heralded the approach of a storm, the short girl pursed her lips in disapproval and disgust. Just wait, she would give him a piece of her mind about how he conducted his affairs! And that's probably exactly what they were too!

Unconsciously she squared her shoulders. Finding and keeping him under a watchful eye was only part of their mission. The other, more nebulous part was to help him (in other words, _make _him) see the advantage of acting like a sober, productive and upstanding member of society. Meryl wrinkled her nose at the overpowering smell and made her way across the debris-littered floor.

In most circumstances she considered herself an optimistic person, but even she could see that it was doubtful that a totally degenerate like the Stampede would want to change his debased, corrupt, evil ways. Her frown deepened. It was also true that Mr. Bernadelli had been a little vague on the procedure of exactly _how _she and Milly were to accomplish that goal. After all, Vash was the from the kind of individual that always found perverse pleasure in their life of debauchery. Maybe when excitement and triumph of having found the outlaw had diminished a bit, they would be advised as to how to proceed to the next stage of the plan. Vash the Stampede flipping burgers at a fast food joint? She gave her head an impatient shake, she could worry about the future later.

Just then she spied the outlaw and the shock was so great that she froze stock still to stare at him, mouth agape. Looking him over she was surprised by a crushing sense of disappointment. It was as if she were expecting something momentous to happen upon meeting the Humanoid Typhoon, as if some new and exciting phase of her life was going to start at that point in time... _Of course you didn't expect that risking one's life to baby-sit a notorious killer to be the beginning of forming fond memories, now did you? _Meryl chided herself. Surreptitiously her hand brushed over the leather straps holding her derringers knowing she was about to come face to face with a dangerous man, even if at first glance he didn't appear to be the stuff of legends.

The light tap of her heels was swallowed up in the hoarse singing coming from a drunken group at the other end of the saloon. Meryl shot them an irritated glance, this drunk and it was only a little past noon! What type of folk were these people anyway? Returning her gaze to the man wearing the long red coat, she focused on him to the exclusion of all else in the room.

At the moment, the infamous destroyer of July was lounging more than sitting in his chair, with two top-heavy women bending over him as he groped each in turn. At the sight Meryl went rigid with disapproval. Sniffing with disgust she finally came to a halt several feet away from him and then gave the women a dismissing glance before studying the outlaw before her. Placing her hands on her hips she leaned toward him and spat out, "You are a disgusting letch! And also, from now on you are under twenty-four hour surveillance, courtesy of the Bernadelli Insurance Society!"

The spikey blond looked up in astonishment at the short woman in hovering front of him bristling with rage. Absently, he noticed the unusual lavender-tinge to her gray eyes, the flush rising in her cheeks, and how petite and cute she was. Already forgetting what she had said, he smiled in an attempt to charm her. "Hey cutie pie, you come to visit little ol' me?" It failed as her face scrunched in contempt at his effort to be suave and impress her. Then the words Meryl said moments before registered and he flung off the saloon girl's hands and sat up straight. He stared at the frowning girl, losing the foolish grin that had been plastered on his face only seconds ago. Was she actually daring to show disgust? He relaxed his posture, deciding to handle this another way first. "Waaaait a minute, what did you just say?"

Around him, the men of his gang that were not off on their own attending to personal business, stiffened as they saw the change in their leader. They quieted, the laughing and joking slowly dying away as those on the fringe also caught wind of the tension. For a moment he sat glaring at the short woman dressed in white. Even her cape was white and it waved about her as if catching the unseen energy radiating off of the woman in waves.

With a lazy gesture of his hand, the outlaw asked, "Who are you? Or rather, maybe I should be asking 'what are you doing here?'"

Meryl gave him her name and quickly described the situation before he could get a word in edgewise. She watched as disbelief spread across his face, which quickly changed to anger. The triangular-shaped lenses of his mirrored-sunglasses hid his eyes but she could tell he was furious as he sat up stiffly and tightly gripped the ends of the arms of his chair. She could see herself in them, scowling down at him with an obstinate look of her own.

With a sound that was halfway between a bellow and a growl, Vash launched up from his chair and grabbed her by the front of her cape, material bunching in his fist. Startled at first, Meryl's eyes flew open wide until she swiftly adjusted to the situation. Choking a bit, her fingers scrabbled at the outlaw's gloved hand trying to break his hold, but it was a futile attempt, if anything, he tightened the pressure on her neck. She stopped trying to loosen his grip, instead, dropped her hands to hold onto his wrist while staring defiantly back up at him. If things got worse, she always had her derringers tucked away, but she would be her last resort if other methods didn't work.

He tightened his fist with a cruel chuckle, watching her squirm uncomfortably again until he let up a bit to allow her to breathe without hindrance. Grinning openly at her plight, he lowered his face closer to hers, a leer forming on his lips as he whispered threateningly, "Do you even know who I am, little girl?" She could see the distorted view of her panic in the mirror reflection of his sunglasses, and decided that was not the way a valued Bernadelli employee acted. Time to change the situation.

Meryl lashed out a foot hoping to catch him by surprise. She felt her tip of her boot connect with flesh and bone. She was rewarded to hear a sharp intake of breath and the hold on her cape was released with a hoarse curse. Not taking any chances, Meryl wasted no time in taking the opportunity to dance back several steps while lifting a hand to rub her throat. She watched as the blond outlaw bent and clutched at his shin, muttering threats under his breath. Making sure that she was out of arm's reach she watched the Stampede straighten, rage showing on what parts of his face that weren't covered by the obscuring triangular lenses. The Stampede was turning out to be a little crankier than she had first anticipated.

The outlaw's form was stiff with anger. Meryl's glance took in the men behind him who were staring at her with varying expressions, ranging from antagonism, surprise, and one with a trace of pity. They thought she had just signed her death sentence. She snorted quietly. Not this girl; not today. Still... This was _the _Vash. Maybe she shouldn't be so cocky and start thinking about how she was going to survive this encounter.

The silence which had started at this table was now slowing making its way to the other corners of the room so that the place was becoming less noisy with each passing second. By the looks of things, it wasn't boding well for her. Pressing her lips together nervously, the short girl touched the restraining strap on one of her concealed derringers and, on the sly, unsnapped it, ready to use it at a moment's notice.

Meryl backed up a couple more steps, opting for illusion that there was safety in distance. After all, if he could take out a whole city, he wouldn't have a problem taking out one tiny woman standing only several yarz away from him. She swallowed hard, and tried to control her trembling limbs. _Now _was not the time for all the horrible crimes he had committed to flash through her mind. _"Good move, Stryfe!" _Meryl thought to herself. _"You just had to poke the sleeping sand worm! Just couldn't leave things well enough alone, could you?" _The idea that maybe it would have been safer all the way around if she had just tailed him without his knowledge, was only just now occurring to her. Why she couldn't have thought of that at the first, she didn't know. The last thing she wanted now was to be on the wrong end of that deadly silver cannon of his.

The gunman reached for the half-empty bottle of booze that was sitting on the table, upended it, and then placed it back, all without turning his head away from her. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand before saying harshly, "Woman, I don't know who you are and I don't care. You are coming back with us and you will pay for your disrespect! No one touches Vash the Stampede!"

Meryl's eyes cut to the left and right, weighing her options for escape when a smooth, pleasant voice came from behind her.

"Well, that certainly would be a terrifying prospect..." a voice said, as boot heels rang on the floor, approaching her from behind. Meryl turned her head slightly over her shoulder to see who it was that was speaking. It was also the first time that the noise in the saloon, so recently at ear-damaging levels, was now at the level of quiet rivaling that of a morgue.

Coming to stand next to Meryl was a tall, shapely woman, wearing a black Stetson to hold down her long, straight dark hair. She wore a calf-length tan duster, black pants, white shirt and a vest. However, the thing that automatically drew the eye to the woman's face, making the viewer forget everything else, was the black and silver eye-patch covering one eye. Other than that, she was beautiful in a detached, deadly, coiled snake kind of way.

A slow, chilling smile lifted her lips and she mockingly intoned, "_If_ you were actually Vash the Stampede, that is."

Meryl's head snapped back around to pin a wide-eyed stare on the outlaw, mouth open. This man wearing the trademark red coat with the spiky blond hair was **_not_** the Humanoid Typhoon? She blinked and shut her mouth with a click, and then shifted uneasily as the tension between the one-eyed woman and the alleged Vash the Stampede, began to escalate. It occurred to her that there were healthier places to be, but she straightened, her mouth set firmly. This was her job, she was being paid very handsomely for going into risky situations involving Vash. Even if it wasn't him? She wondered about that. No one had ever said anything about there being an imposter. A light bulb went off and she could feel puzzle pieces in their search for the ace gunman falling into place. Of course, she kicked herself mentally; she should have seen this a long time ago!

The risk prevention agent moved away a few more steps off to the side so that she wasn't included in the death glare being shared between the two antagonists.

It was then that something strange happened. Meryl only blinked once, she was sure of that, when all of a sudden, the woman was standing in front of the outlaw, all without having moved! Not only that, she was holding the outlaw's sunglasses in her lifted hand!

Meryl, absolutely flabbergasted, swung an astonished gaze back and forth between the two as she wondered what had just taken place. It was strange and extremely unlikely to find someone else who was as quick in their movements as Vash the Stampede. She looked beyond them and was relieved to see that the men standing back behind the table were just as shocked as she was.

"You are nothing but a cheap imitation. I have met Vash the Stampede. You are nothing like him."

One could hear a low, rumbling growl coming from the outlaw declared an imposter. The silence stretched out painstakingly and Meryl used that time to inspect the fake Vash. Now that she thought about it and wasn't quite so nervous, she noticed that he wasn't as tall as the reports made him out him to be, nor was this man as skinny and gangly as the real Vash was, to the point of being all limbs, knees and elbows. Still, it was also said that for all the ungainliness of his appearance, the outlaw could move with the grace of a cat, silent as a shadow, and quicker than a racing thought.

The most damning feature exposing this fraud of a Typhoon were the flat brown eyes once hidden by the triangular glasses. The eyes of the Stampede were always described as unusual, blue-green, aqua, or even frosty light blue that could glow upon occasion. These were ordinary eyes, a dark, hard brown, unsettling, but still, very normal. Also, now that the sunglasses were off, she could see that this man's jaw line was rounder, his nose shorter and thicker than what was listed in the descriptions. Another light went on and Meryl could have slapped herself! Odd, blueish-green eyes! She was an idiot! She had seen odd eyes like that before! In fact, just the other day... Before she could finish that thought, someone in the crowd trying to get a closer look bumped her from behind.

Meryl was shoved and stumbled sideways a step or two before catching her balance. She turned a death glare at the person who bumped into her but they were intent on the tableau in front of them. Then she shrugged her shoulders dismissing the rude behavior and turned her attention back to the imposter and this mysterious woman. In a way she was feeling relieved that this man wasn't Vash the Stampede after all, yet it also meant that their search wasn't over yet.

The red-coated imposter (although probably some variety of low-class outlaw) growled menacingly.

"You are going to die first, you one-eyed witch! And then the little one."

_Who was he calling little? Her? _

As if appearing out of thin air, Meryl noticed the newcomer's piece was under his nose, the end jamming up into it forcing him to tip his head back.

"Don't threaten me, you piece of trash! You should be down on your hands and knees thanking me that you are even alive! I could have killed you, easily, three times over by now." Giving her gun another nudge, she forced the gunman to crane his head back uncomfortably away from the tip of her gun.

"HEY, MERYL!" A cheerful voice sang out, which was easy to hear now that the joint was still silent as a tomb, waiting for the tension between the woman with the eye-patch and the red-coated imposter to break the place wide open. Suddenly, Meryl was stiff with fear for her tall friend. Milly would just waltz into danger with a smile on her face inquiring if anyone there would like to share a pudding cup with her! Meryl just managed to keep from clutching her head at the image in her head. She had to get Milly safely out of this death trap!

Typical of her tall friend, she acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Instead, the figure of Milly pushed through people frozen in place. Catching sight of her best friend, Milly smiled broadly and made her way to her shorter friend, still carrying the sack from the store.

"Hey Meryl, I got you those supplies you mentioned."

"Milly!" Meryl nearly shrieked, a mortified flush rising on her cheeks.

Milly came to a halt, and jammed her hand into the sack, face peering into it until all Meryl could see was the top of Milly's blond head.

"Wanna see?"

"NO!" Yelled Meryl rushing to her friend's side, grabbing her hand from groping around in the sack. "Not now, Milly!" She hissed out of the side of her mouth.

Just then Milly looked up and her mouth dropped open at the sight in front of her. "Wow, Meryl! You found the Hemorrhoid Tycoon! Or is it… He looks kinda silly don't you think? Not at all like the posters…"

"Milly!" Meryl gasped out, clutching onto her tall friend, as she noticed that even the eye-patched woman looked over her shoulder at them with a curious expression.

"You two better leave while you can," the lady informed them, a faint, ironical smile touching her lips.

"Hellooooo!" Milly lifted a hand in a friendly wave, "I'm Milly Thomp... Hey, Meryl! Why are you pushing?" Milly glanced down at the two hands pushing at her back and the aggravated Meryl. She'd do anything to get Milly moving! Pushing, dragging, yanking on her friend to get her moving toward the door, finally Milly started to move, although hesitantly. "But I don't get it, aren't we supposed to be watching him?" Milly was slowing Meryl's efforts move her.

"It's not him!" Meryl finally huffed out, "He's an imposter!"

"I am Vash the Stampede and I will prove it to you...!" The imposter was also as eager to get moving, but the imposing woman with the eye-patch blocked his movements. He was fuming, what was with all of these women all of a suddenly!

"The only one you need to prove it to is me!" There was a short gasp of pain but Meryl didn't turn around to see what had happened. She was too close to the door and Milly was finally cooperating and letting herself be drawn toward the door. At last they were out the door and Meryl allowed herself a sigh of relief. Milly looked down at Meryl with puzzled eyes but waited until they were down the sidewalk a block or so away before she dared to say anything.

"What were you doing in there if that wasn't Vash?" She said, looking down quizzically.

Meryl didn't seem mad, only anxious to the point that she was sucking on her bottom lip and shooting glances behind them. Just then they heard a couple of shots ring out which nearly made Meryl jump out of her skin.

"It wasn't the real Vash the Stampede, Milly, just someone using his fame and reputation to turn themselves into minor despot. I was merely checking it out to cross out one more rumor." Grabbing her friend by the elbow, Meryl hurried them down the street toward the bus station.

"Come on, we will just have to keep searching. I bet it's about time for the bus to leave."

* * *

**Later, on the Departing Bus**

"Milly!"

"Yes Meryl?" a sweet voice replied.

"When I said supplies, I meant _supplies_, NOT pudding!"

"Oh. Sorry, Meryl."


	12. CH 11 Master of Monsters

_Thank you to all of our new reviewers! Renleek, Alaina Knight, (hope I spelled that right...). And of course our favorite reviewers, AineofKnockaine and hope-is-4ever! Also I wanted to give my thanks to Meesh (Legato lover extordinare) who gave me the thumbs up on this chapter - you'll understand once you've read it! Hope it wasn't too long of a wait for everyone, Dwellin and I have been on a roll this month writing new chapters and having an absolute ball! Don't worry, things will be picking up shortly. Oh yes, and a special thanks to Themis56 for her great beta-reading, you've been a life saver more than once!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 11** **Master of Monsters** **Outskirts of Marchville**

**Stardate: 09-03-0110-05:00**

It was a race against time. The self-proclaimed count could feel it in his bones as they sped across the sands. Too much time had elapsed since he left New Barnsdall. Elendira had followed his instructions to keep an eye on Legato. She had managed to hinder his progress as he went about gathering the Gung-ho Guns, bending them to his will and purposes. Messengers were killed, cars destroyed, anything to keep him from getting his message to the army that they had a new master and purpose. Now was not the time to dawdle. If he were to keep any of the army that the Crimson Nail had promised him months ago, he would have to act quickly.

Hand placed against the cool glass window, he saw the lightening skies. The suns would soon rise and the hot desert sand would make travel difficult. He glanced over to Elendira, her long slender fingers clasping the steering wheel casually. For months now he couldn't get over how arrogant she was, it must have come with her inherited title, the one he had taken for his own a month before. Had Legato really chosen her to join the Gung-ho Guns, or had she forced her way in? How had they joined forces? Questions rolled through his head. She was like a large cat toying with a mouse, one never knew when she'd jump in for the final kill, or whether she would let the mouse go to toy with another day. It didn't matter that during their second meeting she freely gave him her identity, her money; everything that was hers became his. But the new count never trusted it; he really didn't trust her at all. However, she had made the impossible possible.

Years had passed since he and his brother walked out of Lost July, alive and well, although changed. Both of them were not the same men as when they had originally entered the city. For some time, all the count could think of was revenge upon his brother for the damage that had been done. All his twin could hope for was to regain his memory; however, the count had a feeling that his brother would have regained his memory a long time before, but something was holding him back. He knew it was now a choice his brother had consciously made upon exiting the rubble of July--he did not _want_ to remember who he was before. But whether remembered or not, whether he knew what he had done or not, the scales would be balanced and he would held accountable for his crimes!

The count glanced over his shoulder at Elendira. A few weeks before he had stepped off the sand steamer and the Beast has disappeared into the sands, Elendira met him at the foot of the steamer with urgent news. After a quick stop at a general store for supplies, they had been traveling ever since. It was time to round up their army before it was too late.

"Elendira, what's the status of Legato?" He started the questioning almost immediately upon his assistant's return, even before they got to the car.

Elendira hated Legato and her face showed it as it twisted in dismay. She sighed, what was with her master's preoccupation with the blue-haired freak anyway? "We haven't seen him since he pulled that stunt last week. Beast said he was headed to Jeneora Rock."

She breathed slowly, her hands coming to rest on the briefcase she carried. It was massively heavy but in her hands it looked like it didn't weigh a thing. Elendira kept her finger near the trigger. She didn't like having to chase down Legato while her master had spent his time leisurely following behind as he tried to perfect his disguises. Of course, he was welcome to use her personal rooms, her money, even her name… Elendira gave up her title of the Count Revenant of Augusta when she gave up being a he. But he'd ruined _her_ chaise lounge back on the Morphus! Elendira didn't realize her grip tightened on the wheel, nor that the sound of an irritated hiss was coming from her mouth. He'd completely worn the foot of it to shreds and it was going to be weeks before she could get the thing repaired. Finally hearing the sounds she was making, she forced a calm that was deceptive as it was false

"Where is Beast at the moment?" Elendira snapped out of her ruminations and looked at her master. He was drinking from a bottle again. It was an annoying habit.

"I'm unsure. He has taken to disappearing since you reprimanded him on the steamer. I suspect he has been checking up on the other Gung-ho Guns." Elendira stepped forward, directing her master into her vehicle. It was as long and wide as a Cadillac but specially built for her own pleasure with soft plush seats and a jacuzzi in the back. He sat down in the passenger's seat. She put her briefcase between them and started the car. "A few have abandoned us after recent events."

Her master frowned. He unbuttoned his coat and took another swig of the whiskey. "How many?"

"Three or four. The Gale, Gauntlet, and Mine, for certain. We're unsure about the Blade." Elendira gunned the car and headed into the desert down the road leading to Valadour.

Another swig. The alcohol wasn't acting quickly enough, the count thought. His arm was throbbing. "How many have joined Legato?"

Elendira thought about it for a moment, "Cyclops, Ninelives and Leonof." She shook her head, unhappily. "We should have killed them, Master. The moment they started to break off, we should have stopped pursuit of your brother and taken them out."

"No," he said slowly, eyes reflecting the lights from the dashboard. He looked at Elendira, a fierce light illuminating from him that shook her to her bones. She knew better than to rebuff her master, but at the same time, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. He knew that he needed her help. "Just as Hornfreak has said all along, this turn of events was bound to happen. Legato is set on one thing, helping his master, and that is what he will do. As long as he's chasing after the Humanoid Typhoon, we're being aided."

He smiled darkly to himself, very satisfied with recent events. "The Gung-ho Guns may have lost their cohesiveness, but never their purpose. Each of them has been wired to do one thing, bring suffering to Vash the Stampede." His grin spread wider until he started chuckling and then the chuckle escalated into malevolent laughter.

The laughter echoed in the desert in through the night, and then faded into silence.

Since then, they had driven almost non-stop to their final destination. A little town on the way to Valadour. A city called Marchville was where Legato was last seen headed from Elendira's estimation. They were about ten iles from the city when the suns appeared over the horizon. Elendira's car came over a rise and down in the valley below there laid before them an encampment. "Stop!" The count cried, his hands clamped onto the dashboard; he leaned forward and almost hit the glass when Elendira brought the Caddy to a stop. Suddenly he was out of the car and jumped upon the hood.

"Master… You'll scratch…" Elendira stepped out of the car frowning. He was going to scratch the paint, she just _knew_ it. Perhaps he thought of himself as a superior being, but he'd wrecked more rooms, more furniture and more paintjobs in the last month she'd known him than any of her lowly servants had ever… But he wasn't paying attention to her down-turned ruby lips, nor the growling that was coming out of her throat.

"It's _him_… Legato… He's down there!"

"What? What did you just say?" Elendira nearly clambered upon the car herself, until she thought second thoughts about it, and instead ran to the trunk and rummaged around for a pair of binoculars. She dashed back around to the top of the hill, started to put them to her face when her master snatched them away. He missed the sour look she gave him. _So much for superior eyesight and hearing, what does he need binoculars for?_ Elendira crossed her arms over her chest. "_He_'s not down there with him, is he?"

Her master waved his hand, "No, no, he's quite alone… Well, except for those outlaws… But they're leaving him alone at the moment…" Quite suddenly the count tossed Elendira back the binoculars and took off like a spooked toma. He raced across the sand and disappeared into the valley all in the time that Elendira scrambled to bring the binoculars to her eyes. She managed to focus on him, and then farther up in the valley on a man wearing white with dark blue hair.

"There you are, Bluesummers… What are you going to do now?" Elendira's frown turned into a small sadistic smile as sat down carefully on the hood of the car to watch the show.

Down below, Legato found himself surrounded by a small offshoot gang of the Roderick Thieves. The group was made up of ruffians, hooligans, the homeless and desperate. He'd stumbled upon them, not on accident, in order to pick up a bite to eat and perhaps to do a small favor to his master by wiping out the trash afterwards. So many of these little groups existed, forced communities of nomads, scraping up what money and food they could manage from caravans and careless travelers. This particular group had settled here on the outskirts of Marchville since it was a spot heavily traveled by caravans headed to Valadour from November. The caravans were vastly unguarded because of the lack of sand steamers and law enforcement.

Legato found these types the most despicable. These were the men who were also into slave trade; he'd seen their type once before when he was a younger man. He held no remorse for what he might do to these men, nor did he feel sorry that they were poor and desperate. They were garbage, just as Master Knives said, their kind were useless to the planet's welfare. No one would miss them, nor come looking for them, just the kind of men he wished to find this morning.

A few of his soldiers were in attendance today as well. Legato had been surprised at the sheer lack of interest he had butted against when it was mentioned he was going to carry on the mission with or without their master's approval. He would have killed each and every one on the spot if it weren't for his hope to regain his master's favor once again. _They will return to me,_ Legato thought as he watched the deserters fade into the desert sand. _They will have to pay for their lack of devotion, but they will return, and my master will set our plan into motion once again!_ He could feel a strange grin come over his face at the thought. It would not be long now!

As the suns rose that morning, Legato went down into the valley with the outlaws for a bite to eat. There was a tent to one end which doubled as a bar and café. Smoke wafted up from a fire pit to the back and people sat on stones and on the ground, eating dried meat and stale bread. _Not my usual fare, but I can make do_, he thought casually, walking into the encampment without a care in the world.

"Hey!"

"You there!"

Men rose from their seats as the handsome man in white strolled past. He looked like a garish courtesan walking through a slum. His clothing, his perfect face, his strangely styled hair, all made him stick out amongst these dirty, unshaved, and tattered men. One stood with a rifle, "Who are you? What do you want?" He lowered his gun, only to find it hoisted up into the air, and then he dropped it to the ground suddenly.

"What… Jimmy, you alright?" One of his buddies asked, watching the display, and then Jimmy as the man's arms twisted backwards, his palms facing outwards as his face displayed numerous levels of pain. "What's… what's goin' on?"

Legato calmly looked at the man next to Jimmy, "I'm in need of breakfast," he said. Then turned his yellow eye to the tent where men were now pouring out, still chewing on chunks of bread and holding mugs of frothy beer. "I assume that is where I might find something passing as food?"

"Yeah, but…" When the man responded civilly, Jimmy suddenly slumped onto his knees with apparent relief. "What…how did you do that?" But Jimmy's friend received no response, Legato was already on the move to the tent. But already the men were exchanging food and drink for armaments. "Who the hell _is_ that guy?"

"I dunno," Jimmy said, finding his tongue again, "But those yeller eyes… They reached up inside and suddenly I couldn't do anythin' myself…" He shivered, "George, I think we'd better get outta here and quick. That feller's gonna kill us all if we don't."

George's eyes narrowed, but he reached down to help his friend up, "Okay, Buddy, let's get out of here." They hobbled away even as the group from the food tent surrounded Legato with guns, knives and crowbars.

_It's too early for a fight;_ Bluesummers thought mildly, _I haven't eaten breakfast yet_. A strange smile spread across his features, and the men in front of him parted to allow him access to the tent. Today would be a practice exercise. These men were weak-minded, but a few of them had inner talents, which, if trained correctly, could make new additions to his army. That was, _if_ they survived the after-dinner show.

* * *

**Outskirts of Valadour**

**Stardate: 09-03-0110-06:00**

The sky was clear and sunny, but there was a heaviness to the air. Normally on such an arid planet, the air never felt as hot as it really was, there was no moisture to make it that way. People could suffer third degree burns before they felt hot, especially on a breezy day, which made traveling the outer a very tricky business. The smart traveler only moved during the night and camped during the day. It wasn't just to avoid the heat but also to avoid freezing to death at night. With very little moisture came very little cloud cover and the deserts were notorious for the near zero degree temperatures at night.

On this morning, a group of about five trucks came to a stop at a small sheltered area just outside of the popular city of Valadour. It was a sister city to Enepril and, most of the time, outsiders regarded both cities under either name. Only those who lived in the cities themselves took pride in their individual areas although they were both suffering problems at the moment. Their shared plants were failing and neither city had enough money to repair them. Half of Enepril was buried in sand. People were moving out of the area in droves, providing they could afford to.

However, those who remained still welcomed weary travelers and tourists, and hoped that soon they would be able to find a way to repair their plants. Someone would eventually come along to help them; at least, that was what they hoped. Unfortunately, along with the open-door policy, came bandits and ruffians… And also, surprisingly enough, rumors that the Humanoid Typhoon was headed their way.

"There's going to be a storm tonight," a deep voice murmured. His partner eyed him suspiciously from the passenger's side.

"Why do you say that?"

"I can feel it, creepy huh?" He smiled underneath a strange half-skull mask. Next to him, his black-suit wearing friend rolled his eyes.

"Next you'll tell me that it'll rain buckets or something. Livio, it rarely rains in these parts and you know it. What makes you think…" The priest pushed open the cab of their truck and was hit with the heavy heat of moisture-laden air, knocking the words right out of him. Livio was still smiling. Nicholas turned on him, "Okay, so maybe you're right… I guess we should mention it to Spiky."

Livio opened his door, "Oh don't worry, he already knows. I wonder if he'll spring for a hotel this time?" He jumped out of the truck and Nicholas scrambled out on his side to follow him. Sometimes, knowing that Livio had plant DNA in him was interesting, but other times it just made him damn creepy.

Wolfwood walked down the row of trucks to where Spiky and the doc were just getting out of their vehicle. Conrad nodded to him and he lifted a hand to his master. "So, are we going to weather out the storm here or in town this time?" He smiled as the blond man gave him an odd look as if to ask 'how did you know it would rain?' but a quick look at Livio answered his question for him.

"A few of us can go into town, but all of us would cause a scene. We need to get supplies however, so we're going to be here for a while. I'll send a few into town each day, I think we have enough funds to even spring for hotel rooms." The Humanoid Typhoon gazed around at his traveling companions, the Eye of Michael. The oldest priest of the group had yet to get out of his truck. He was disabled so rarely moved around if he didn't feel the need to. The others hung back out of respect, although they eyed the trio of Wolfwood, Livio and Conrad with ill favor. He sighed. No matter how long he was with them, the priests never treated him like a normal human being.

Doctor Conrad nodded in approval of the plan. "I'll take you and Livio with me today; we need to check up on their plant systems. I've heard word they stopped functioning and we'll be able to gather extra money and supplies if we can get them running again."

"What if they can't pay though?" Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't you think if they had enough money they would have fixed them already?"

"My boy…" Conrad started. He had a habit of treating them all like his sons, even Spikey, although Wolfwood wasn't sure if he realized it or not. "People in need find incredible strength when a hero comes to save them. Perhaps it will take time, but with a little ingenuity, they will find a way to pay us. Believe me, I've seen it happen before." He smiled.

"In July…" Livio trailed off. He eyed his Master warily, but the Stampede didn't seem affected by the mention; instead, he was eyeing a priest walking by with the supplies for the food tent. None of them had eaten breakfast yet. "So when do we leave for town?"

"When we finish unpacking," Nicholas said in step. He smiled as Livio gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. "I don't have to read minds to know that's when our morning chores end and our jobs begin." Livio received a nod from Conrad and his Master. Wolfwood was already headed back to their truck. He turned and followed without another word.

Behind him, however, the Humanoid Typhoon turned on his heel and headed after the priest with the food. "Can't work on an empty stomach…" He said.

Conrad rolled his eyes, "We have _got_ to do something about that appetite of yours…"

* * *

**Killing Time**

**Stardate: 09-03-0110-06:00**

Gunfire echoed over the hills. The sound of the single shot carried over the cliffs for almost a minute until it was followed by a deafening scream. Then shouts, more shots, and after a few moments the all went silent. The sky was heavy, there were dark black clouds rolling in from the west. A crack of thunder broke the silence.

Down below, what was left of the Rodrick encampment stood in shambles. Bodies littered the ground, blood, spent bullet casings, torn tents and wrecked cars were all that was left of the gang. And in the midst of this chaos stood one man, blood covering his white coat. He sniffed disdainfully. There was a clear winner here and he carried no weapons other than his own mind. They'd destroyed each other in a matter of moments, not one of them able to withstand the power of control he held over them. At least they'd waited until he was able to finish breakfast. The stale bread, when mixed with ale and a bit of sausage was at least partially edible. When he finished the last bite, they attacked. It was at great cost to them, because within minutes they were at one another's throats, and then all fell silent.

The sky rumbled again moments after a streak of lightning flickered through the sky. Legato glanced up at the rain filled clouds. He would have to seek shelter or be soaked very soon. He enjoyed the practice, laying slaughter to these thieves; wiping their kind of the face of the planet was a personal pleasure he rarely enjoyed as of late. Their kind had done the unthinkable to him as a child and thus he did the unthinkable to them, and they lay bleeding and broken, dead all of them. Another flash of lightning scoured the sky and Legato's attention suddenly was brought to a shadow upon the cliff near him.

Above him a man in black sat on the cliff, legs dangling over the side as he applauded between thunderclaps. Legato frowned. _You again…_ He wasn't really amused by visitor. In fact, until this moment of silence, he wasn't even aware someone was watching him. That, perhaps, was what irked him the most and to show just how much, he turned on his heel and set his sights on his single audience member.

Narrowing yellow eyes, Legato reached for the small internal balance within the man's brain, and yanked it from him. Suddenly there was a frightful thud as the stranger fell face first off the cliff, caught totally by surprise. The sound was followed by a string of curses as the man in black pushed himself up.

"You… That was entirely uncalled for!" He growled, pulling a gun from the recesses of his coat, "You caught me off-guard with that little mind trick, but you won't control me again, you little ass."

Legato laughed, his eyes almost glowing in mirth. How much fun it was to toy with this supposedly superior being! He had no power over him now, the Gung-Ho Guns were now his to command, and with such power at his disposal, he had nothing to fear from this creature. "What makes you think you can shoot me? Think that will change my mind about my disappointment in your kind?"

"It is I who should be disappointed in you!" The count ran a gloved hand over his forehead and it came away with a streak of blood. "I came here to discuss the status of my army…"

"They are not yours, nor will they ever be. You're a pale shadow of my former master."

The count growled, "That's right! I'm _nothing_ like your former master, I'm much _better!_ Don't you see how great we could be if the Gung-Ho Guns remained under my control? My brother has slaughtered millions, and it is in his power to slaughter so many more. But that is also the same power I hold as well! The two of us would be great, we could take over this planet, and with the help of the Guns, we could hold it as our own, securing it from those humans we so despise, you and I!" A clap of thunder broke the air and a light rain started to fall. It pattered on his black coat, and down his face, mingling the blood on his forehead to run down the side of his cheek.

Legato's eyes narrowed, the rain was cool to the touch. He hadn't felt the like in years, a whisper of water to quench the land. The thunder rumbled in the distance, a voice saying there would be heavier rains soon. Their conversation would soon be at an end as the heavier rains fell farther up the cliffs and would undoubtedly create a flashflood to again carve the cliffs deeper. Neither man was safe here. It stirred the air with uncertainty, like a child cranking the handle of a jack in the box. "What are you proposing?"

With a smile, the count put his gun away. "My brother is headed, from what we can tell, to Jeneora Rock."

"The church of the Eye of Michael, I'm aware of the place."

"Yes. Their journey however goes through the normal trade routes, rather than through the Outer. I propose for you and the Guns to set up, shall we say, a welcome party for them? I will take my followers," and with this Legato sneered as he thought of Elendira and the count merely smiled with acknowledgement. "Yes, I understand how you feel about her, nevertheless, she is a strong soldier. I will keep her and Midvalley with me as we make sure the Stampede remains following his chosen route. The Beast will remain as a go-between to keep you informed on our progress."

The blue haired man drew his hands from his pockets, "Why not just confront him now? This is a matter of utmost importance."

"Suffering," the count smiled viciously. "To bring eternal suffering to my brother… We will pick off those he is traveling with along the way, split them up, torturing him, I will bring him close to people, those he will wish to protect before I rip them away! When he arrives at Jeneora, he will be broken, controllable…" The count shoved his foot at a dead body, the lifeless head lulled to the side. "We will show him power, show him a way to end the suffering… And he will accept. He will remember who he really is, and he will join us."

Legato drew in a long breath. A crack of thunder rumbled the sky and the rain started to fall harder. "Very well," he said finally. "We shall see how your plan works by the time you bring him to Jeneora. If he is not changed, not broken, we will do it _my_ way." Suddenly another crack of thunder and the rain fell in sheets. Legato disappeared from sight.

The count smiled. "And if you fail, I _will_ kill you and your army." He turned just in time for the Crimson Nail to drive up in her Caddy.

"Master… You're soaking… Don't get it…" The Count jumped into the car, dripping wet, the water soaking into the interior. Elendira groaned. "…Wet," she finished. She sighed; at least it wasn't blood _this time_. "What did Bluesummers…"

"He's doing exactly as I want. We're going to meet him in Jeneora Rock. Until we get there, he'll be out of our hair." The count shucked off his coat and dropped it on the floor in front of him. Elendira breathed a sigh of relief. She took the car out of park and headed up out of the cliffs toward Marchville.

"But what are _we_ going to do in the meantime?"

"Find me a new disguise…" The count chuckled and Elendira rolled her eyes. "No, I have _other_ plans for the insurance girls for the time being. We shall stay out of their way. But I also wish to get an informant within the camp."

Elendira smiled. "Already taken care of, Master."

The count nodded with pleasure; "Let's get into town then. I need a shower and a drink."

"Of course, your wish is my command," she replied as they drove through the storm.


	13. CH 12 Marchville

_Thanks again to our reviewers - Renleek and AineofKnockaine! I hope there are still a few more of you out there reading... please make sure to bookmark us, the story is still going, we promise! Sorry for the long delay, Dwellin and I have had quite a few things keeping us from writing our story - vacations, conventions, school, etc. - but we're still dilligently plugging along! Hope you like the next chapter!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

* * *

_

Chapter 12

**Marchville**

**Stardate: 09-05-0110-19:00**

After two weeks on the bus, the insurance girls came to the little town of Marchville. This town was the cleanest one they'd come to: the hotel was spotless, there were even little bushes planted in pots along the sidewalk. Meryl found it to be a nice town, very relaxing, and considered asking Milly if she thought staying there an extra day might be feasible until a strange feeling came over her. Someone was watching her again. It was the same feeling as before; a chill ran up her spine and she picked up her pace to meet Milly.

The problem was, they had not seen another sign of the tall stranger since that night Milly shot him. Meryl wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Was it better to have him skulking after them and not know it, or have him following and know it? Not for one moment did she believe that they weren't being secretly watched. If it was her job and her cover blown, she would assign others to do the tailing for her. If he was smart, he would do that to. There was the million double-dollar question, just how intelligent was this pervert? For one thing, was he taking into account that both of the girls would recognize him in a next encounter if there was one? But there was no way he could still be watching them, could there?

Meryl's brow furrowed in puzzled thought. It was for certain that he wasn't on the bus with them this time as they would have seen through any stupid disguise on his part. Then again, neither had she spotted anyone following the bus through the desert, or even shadowing them in town after they had arrived. Until now.

Yet, how could they have been followed when both of them were on the alert? It was simply impossible. Perhaps there were others… Maybe the guy really had been a bounty hunter, and he had a gang… There was that one incident on the bus… Meryl shook her head, no, there couldn't be a connection; at least, she hoped not. It wasn't normal for Meryl's thinking to go down the direction that it might be likely that the reason they were being followed was for themselves and that the unknown person could just as well be a slaver scout.

The heels of her boots tip-tapped on the rough, worn wood of the boardwalk in a light rhythm as she walked. Most times it was a soothing sound, the sound of someone walking through this world with resolve and purpose. She looked up to notice with a start that the suns were sinking beyond the mountains and starting to cast long shadows so that the world was cast into that indistinct no man's land between bright daylight and cloaking night. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she resisted the urge to turn around and look. She didn't want to give away that she knew she was aware of being followed again.

Her eyes narrowed as she slowed so she could cast a glance over her shoulder. There! A tall, lanky shadow ducking back into that last alley she had just passed. Now she was sure of it and he was still keeping close to her. It was that bounty hunter out to take advantage of them again! _But Milly's right, maybe it's better we know where he is_, she thought grimly to herself. Let him follow then, but if he tried to interfere in their investigation in any way or apprehend Vash the Stampede he would find himself in the sorry position of looking down the long barrel of a stun gun and tiny derringers with two determined women who knew how to use them. Meryl would brook no obstructions such as a filthy, scruffy bounty hunter trying to derail their mission. Nor, she admitted as another thought came to her, someone trying to take revenge on the Humanoid Typhoon. If there was going to be any action taken it would be within the limits of the law.

Meryl lifted a hand and reassuringly brushed light fingertips where one of her derringers was belted in. They were clean, oiled, and loaded, ready for any action that came her way. A slight twitch of her lips as she considered her arsenal and a gleam flashed across her eyes. Let him try kissing her again, he would find one Meryl Stryfe was no pushover!

Starting up again, this time on the balls of her feet and making less noise, she was fairly certain she heard a very faint scuff of a footstep behind her. Meryl lifted her nose and ignored it. If he did make a mistake, she would turn the tables on him sooner or later and teach him a lesson he would not soon forget. But she didn't have time now; Milly was waiting for her at the coffee shop, having gone there right after giving her files to Meryl. The petite member of the team got everything in order, according to Bernadelli specifications and Meryl Stryfe standards. The blue form on top, filled out perfectly, the white forms, then the goldenrod form last. Placing it in a sturdy package she soon had it ready to send off straight to Mr. Bernadelli himself. It was a thing of beauty to behold. She smiled in satisfaction, certain that even Mr. Bernadelli, himself, would be impressed with their efforts. Meryl was coming from the post office having just finished putting the last touches on their latest report and handing it over to be sent out.

They were getting close to Vash now, she could just taste it! There were new and unseen articles and postings about the Humanoid Typhoon in this town that needed to be waded through. Even actual witnesses who were more than willing to describe in detail what he looked like, the people he traveled with, what kind of aftershave he wore even! Of course, the only problem was, only a few people didn't have contradicting stories. Most of those interviewed so far had conflicting stories, which when checked with her files, she'd already managed to piece together. For example, her first impression was that he was a tall blond man with a red coat, a .45 long Colt, and followed by a stunning youth who wore white. Each person said that the 'youth' could be a female or a male, sometimes blond, other times an odd colored brunette. The story she now started to pick up was maybe he was traveling with a band of priests who wore black. A third gave him a black coat and blond hair… The list went on and on. Meryl wasn't sure really whether she was looking for one man or two, only that he -- or they -- were traveling in the direction of May City. Meryl knew it would only be a matter of time now that she would find him.

Resisting the urge to throw a glare over her shoulder, she didn't relish the fact that the jerk, whoever he was, was shadowing her. Meryl's teeth were clenched tightly by the time she got to the front door of the coffee shop. She laid a delicate hand on the handle, pausing just long enough to look askance out of the corner of her eye down the way she had come. Nothing... wait, there, barely able to be made out, was a dark tip of a shoulder against the backdrop of the twilight sky and darker alley. And was that just a glint of an eye watching her? For no reason she could think of, she shivered and then scolded herself. Depressing the handle she pushed through the door and entered the shop.

"OH HEY MERYL! OVER HERE!" Milly waved wildly as if she were standing in a packed restaurant. Meryl noticed she was standing by the cash register paying for her mille-feuille cake, green tea (they were out of Ceylon) and the espresso that Meryl asked her to order for her. She scanned the establishment again, yes; they were the only two in the place, in addition to the little acne-riddled youth with braces behind the counter whose gaze was locked onto Milly. And Milly said boys didn't pay attention to her. Meryl was beginning to think that they did, but Milly didn't see it for herself.

Meryl managed a weak grin while giving her partner a return wave, she couldn't help herself, Milly's joy was infectious.

"I got you a double strong, er... impresario thingie."

"Espresso." Meryl said mildly as she automatically corrected her friend.

Meryl walked up next to her and looked down at the double espresso. She really shouldn't be drinking one of these this time of the evening, but being the coffee addict that she was she was reasonably certain that it wouldn't keep her from getting any sleep tonight.

"Milly..." Meryl started quietly only to be interrupted.

"This is a great place, huh Meryl! Hey, you look a little tense." Milly's eyes zeroed in on tension and strain showing around Meryl's eyes and mouth. Instantly Milly looked over Meryl's shoulder with a fierce look, "Was some pervert bothering you Meryl? I could shoot him for you." Her eyes narrowed as she started to reach under her duster.

"No, no, I am fine, I just need to talk to you in private."

Meryl sighed and picked up her cup and headed for a table. Milly paused a second before picking up her order and following close behind the shorter figure of her friend but still shooting suspicious glances over her shoulder as if the pervert in question should happen to come waltzing through the door.

When they reached a table, they sat down, Meryl absentmindedly brushing the previous occupant's crumbs into her hand before dropping them on the unfolded napkin in front of her. She watched in silence until Milly sat and began to pull apart hunks of the cake with a gleeful expression on her face. Warmth for her friend filled her as she watched Milly enjoying every bite of her cake.

Meryl thought again on the fact that Milly was gaining confidence in her own abilities with each encounter they had with the rough men that ran rampant in these wild parts of the country. Something about taking down that guy in the alley had given her the confidence. Yes indeed, Milly was becoming a force to be reckoned with. At the rate she was progressing Meryl just hoped her gentle friend didn't turn into a bully.

She glanced over at Milly's smiling face as she popped another piece of cake into her mouth and chewed as if all of heaven were bound up in that little bite. For her, maybe it was. Meryl picked up her small cup and sipped it as she studied her blond friend.

Strangely enough, Milly's knees would still knock together if mention were made of their assignment, her eyes would widen in fear and always the same moan of, "Ooohhhh, MMmmmeerrrrrrrryyllllll." Meryl couldn't help but give her friend a fond grin. Especially as she watched Milly sucking one of her fingers in an effort to get every last bit of cake.

"You silly goose." Meryl said under her breath with affection.

"Whaff's faaph Merrrul, whaff fif yu faay?" Milly said, cheeks bulging.

Then Meryl remembered she had been tailed and her eyes sharpened. Leaning forward on her elbows she said, "Listen Milly, just earlier I was being followed agai..."

Crumbs went spewing across the table in her haste to speak, "I knewff fumfin fas frong!" Milly reached for her hidden stun gun.

"No, no… I wasn't being hit on by a drunk or anything like that." Meryl reassured hurriedly, grabbing her friend's forearm before Milly could arm herself.

Meryl lowered her voice, "I am pretty sure we are being followed by _him_," with a curt shake of her head that flipped her bangs off her brow only to slide back into her eyes again, she continued, "I don't know how he caught up to us so quickly, but I want you to keep an eye open at all times, okay?" For emphasis she tapped her forefinger on the tabletop. "We've got enough dis-information to spew to this guy if necessary, so you keep that in mind if you see him again. Vash is our assignment and we are not going to let anyone else take him away from us. Who knows what kind of mayhem might ensue from that? **We** are the ones who were given the authority to hunt him down and keep him from harming others."

Milly's eyes were wide as they usually got when the subject of the Stampede came up. Meryl noted it and was irritated with her partner's gullible side that believed in humanoid typhoons and bogeymen. "Oh come on, Milly, those rumors just can't be true and when we finally meet up with him I will prove it to you. No human can do those things that he is reported to have done. I'm more worried at this point about that creep who kissed me!"

Milly didn't say anything, just picked up her tea and gulped in down in a few swallows. There was a clatter as her shaking hand replaced the cup on the saucer.

Meryl sighed and rubbed her brow with a weary hand. "Okay, tell you what, when we find him, just let me deal with him and you can be backup. If he kills me, then you have permission to kill him. Okay?"

Milly sincerely hoped that Meryl didn't seriously mean that. How could anyone willingly just lay down her life for a **_job_**? Yes, an important job, but all the same, one could flip burgers for a living. Milly couldn't see squandering one's life away like this, for one's beliefs, yes, loved ones and friends, yes... a job, no. It was Milly's suspicion that Meryl was flushed with the excitement and triumph of doing something she was excellent at and that she had also found acceptance and worth she had never found anywhere else. To counteract this Milly fervently prayed that Meryl would fall deeply in love someday. It was an obsession that worked for her petite, beautiful friend for now, but Milly was skeptical of this near fanaticism to one's job, a dangerous one at that. She didn't think anything other than losing one's heart to a beloved would be able to rival the dedication and zealous energy that Meryl threw into her work.

Instead of giving voice to all of that, Milly only nodded, her eyes staring off into a spot somewhere over Meryl's shoulder.

_Great_, thought Meryl to herself as she cupped her cheek in her hand. _I should have waited until morning to make mention of this. Now she's going to have a 'Vash the Stampede is going to kill me' nightmare again tonight. Well, if she does, I can see it will be at least one game of chess before she can go back to sleep again. _Meryl snorted softly to herself._ Vash the bogeyman, indeed. She gives him way too much control over her fears._

A quick glance out the window told her that the sun had disappeared over the horizon. She stood up and pushed the chair in. "Let's get back to the hotel, Milly. It's going to be a long day tomorrow. We're going to go toma shopping."

"Uh, sure, right..." Milly stood up awkwardly, her mind elsewhere.

Meryl and Milly carried their dishes to a gray plastic bin near the counter placed there for the depositing of dirty dishes. They were heading for the door when it abruptly opened and Meryl ran face first into the person entering. Meryl bounced off a hard muscled body and back into Milly who caught her or she would have fallen back on her derriere.

"Hey!" Started Meryl, ready to light into the inconsiderate man when she looked up and caught the haughty look in the eyes of the...

...Woman's features. Meryl's mouth dropped open as confusion swept over her. She could have sworn she had just bumped into a man, but as her eyes took in the apparel and appearance of the person in front of her it was that of a female, and, with a swift inventory, one with a better figure than hers. Very baffled, she started to stutter out an apology only to be cut off.

"Yes, well, I suppose you can't help being clumsy... your feet only reach so far."

Meryl stared back in astonishment until a fiery gleam appeared in her eye. That was deliberate! Thunder began forming on her brow as her body tensed for a confrontation. Meryl Stryfe did not back down from bullies, that was all there was to it. She was about to respond when she felt an arm go around her waist and lift her off of her feet.

"Sorry Ma'am, we didn't see you coming in." Milly moved around the woman who stared at them with icy disdain as she succeeded in pushing Meryl out of the door ahead of her.

"What did you do that for? I could have taken her!" Fumed an indignant Meryl, arms and feet waving as she sought to break Milly's hold of iron.

Once they were on the boardwalk and the door safely shut behind them, Milly cautiously put Meryl down, ready to snatch her up again if need be. Not taking any chances, Milly maneuvered between Meryl and the closed door before Milly smiled apologetically down at her worked-up friend. "She wasn't worth it, Meryl." Milly had a _bad_ feeling in the pit of her stomach that Meryl _wouldn't_ have been able to take her as she thought she could… Best to just let sleeping dogs lie, as her little big brother always used to say.

"I wasn't afraid of him... her..." She waved a hand in dismissal. "Whatever."

Milly looked down at Meryl in concern. The last thing she wanted to do was disagree with Meryl but she wondered if Meryl was working too many hours. Maybe they needed a short vacation. "Him?" Broached Milly carefully as it was obvious that Meryl's feathers were still ruffled.

Now a perplexed look passed over Meryl's face. "Her? I don't know Milly. It just seemed for a minute there..." She shook her head to clear it. "Never mind, let's get back to the hotel."

After the girls departed down the walk toward their hotel, a figure pulled itself from the blending shadows and looked after them. A deep chuckle sounded. They were precisely where he wanted them!

* * *

Lob's Diner 

**Stardate: 09-06-0110-9:00**

The very next morning, after finding suitable mounts at a toma farm, the girls were on their way again. At the moment they were at a little diner called Lob's where truckers stopped on the way to the big city. It was here that Meryl decided to continue Milly's lessons on using legitimate tricks to get their way. While Meryl worked on getting information, Milly was to divert the attentions of the men in the restaurant. She hoped that if Milly were so preoccupied with her lines then she'd forget her fear of Vash the Stampede. It was worth a try, and if it didn't, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Of course, Milly wasn't very happy when Meryl first suggested the skit back during their bus ride, but after it worked the first time, the two of them used it any time that unwelcome situations put the squeeze on them. Given the circumstances of being in the Outer, which was quite often. Of course, Milly had to learn to keep her temper after the first name calling started the moment she dropped her stun gun out of hiding. She received every name from 'gorilla-girl' to the 'giant girl' was thrown at her after that. Fear of her kept the men from advancing on them, but she had to bite her tongue because she _hated_ being called big. She had much rather be Meryl's height and told Meryl at many instances even when Meryl told her that it came in handy at times. When Milly's stun gun didn't frighten the men, the lethal combination of Milly's firepower and Meryl's fifty derringers did, and it was easy from then on to keep the men at bay as they searched for clues.

But Milly was scared nevertheless. She would hang back when they heard mention was made about Vash the Stampede, and oftentimes Meryl found herself dragging the big girl behind her by her coattails. Only when someone fired an insult at Milly would she forget her fear in the heat of the moment. At such times it was Meryl hanging onto Milly's coattails trying to slow her down since stopping her was nigh on impossible. The very tall blond woman strode forth with the rage of a titan, easily dragging the smaller, shorthaired woman who held onto her duster while digging in her heels for all she was worth. It was like trying to stop a sandsteamer barreling at top speed. Thankfully, it didn't happen all the time, but with a frequency Meryl found unsettling, although she couldn't quite come up with a better plan that would avoid it.

Stopping at the diner proved to be very useful. As they stood watering their birds, the girls heard a sudden squeal of a truck's breaks and watched two men hop out of a semi and dash into the restaurant. Moments later the two men and a dozen others ran out again, all getting into their vehicles and headed toward Valadour. Meryl glanced over at Milly, "What do you suppose _that_ was all about?"

"I'm not sure, Meryl. Think we should go in?" Milly patted her toma on the beak and then tied it to a hitching post. Meryl followed suit and the two of them started into the building.

A couple of men walked out of the diner talking, and Meryl caught the words, "Vash the Stampede," and "Valadour" in his sentence, and her eyes lit up. "Did you hear that, Milly!"

Milly shook her head, "No… What?"

"Time to put on our game faces, we've got to get information…" Meryl swallowed. She hoped that this diner would be easier to get information out of rather than the last few they had visited. . Stopping at the door, she stood up on her tiptoes to look through the glass and quickly scanned the room. Her hopes sank. From the looks of the rough men who ran out of the restaurant, and the fact that she had this inkling that each and every one of them were bounty hunters… well, it didn't appear that the odds were on their side. Still, she wasn't going to leave without learning what was going on. She grabbed Milly's wrist and stopped her friend from entering. "We _may_ have to use the trick."

Her tall friend's eyebrows furrowed. "But Meeerryyylll…"

"No 'buts' Milly, I just want you to be prepared."

"Can I at least order something for my trouble?" Milly's blue eyes looked hopeful.

Meryl rolled her eyes, "Okay." At least Milly was easily bribed. Her tall friend smiled brilliantly before instantly wiping off her smile and pushing her way into Lobs'. It was time to get to business.


	14. CH 13 Valadour

_Thanks again to our reviewers - mouse, Renleek, Erin Sasaki and AineofKnockaine! Thanks for our newest reviewers, so glad you found us! Sorry for the long delay, this time this site has been giving me trouble, probably because my computer is so ancient! I sure hope you all like this chapter, the insurance girls have FINALLY caught up to Vash the Stampede - what will happen!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

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**Chapter 13**

**Valadour**

**Vash the Stampede Sighting #1**

**Stardate: 09-06-0110-14:00**

Valadour was approximately half way between December City and May City. It was used as a caravan stop and a station for the largest humpback-class sandsteamers on the planet. For years it was a wealthy town, and for a long time many suspected it might eventually become the eighth city. Then something horrible happened: the plants started to malfunction and the city could not afford to fix them. The caravans and the sandsteamers still traveled through, but the territory was becoming dangerous, gangs patrolled the borders and many people started taking steamers from November instead.

So it wasn't unusual that neither insurance girl was prepared for what they found in this run-down little city.

"Well," Meryl said when they arrived in Valadour to find it in a panic, "I guess we've come to the right place."

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Milly mumbled, slouching on her toma as gunfire went off and a bomb exploded somewhere. "What if this mess really is because of Vash? We'll get killed, won't we?"

"Nonsense," Meryl said with a throaty laugh, "we're here to do our job. We'll simply tell the mayor there is no bounty and this ridiculous hunt will end. I'm sure we'll find Vash in no time and then ascertain to see if he's really the threat everyone thinks he is, or whether it's just because of these fools going after him!" Meryl nodded to herself mostly, urging her toma on into the city as Milly trailed behind.

"You really think that Vash isn't as dangerous as they're letting on? What about McPhee and Langhorne?"

"Sure he could have killed them… But think of all of the other outlandish rumors," Meryl said when Milly got her toma to line up with her own. "No man could have taken out July City by himself. No man could make an entire city's inhabitants just disappear without a trace… They say he's got some super-human powers, and that's just bull…" She trailed off as an explosion took out a building in front of them.

Their toma spooked, squawking in fear and knocking both girls to the ground. Meryl started to yell at her mount but the birds were already running off in the opposite direction. The dark haired girl started to get to her feet when her eyes spotted a man wearing a red coat walking calmly toward them from out of the smoke.

Meryl swallowed and Milly scrambled backwards, rubbing her butt and moaning. "Mee-errryyyl." She whined.

"It's okay Milly… I think," she added the last bit under her breath as the tall man reached out his hand to her. He had cold aqua eyes, the deep color of sink hole wells, a splendidly handsome face, short white blond hair spiked up, his red coat dusty but otherwise in good condition covering him from his neck to his shins where black boots scuffed in the dirt. She could see the boots were knee-high and that he had black chaps protecting dark black jeans below, as he bent down to help her stand.

"You seem to be unharmed," he said slowly, his eyes cold but worried. He glanced over to Milly and gave her a hand as well as Meryl brushed the dirt off her backside. Milly reluctantly took his proffered hand and he had no trouble whatsoever in helping her to her feet. Milly was amazed; only her father and brothers were strong enough to pull her up like that, as if she weighed no more than Meryl. She took her hand back from him, seeing that his hands were covered in black gloves. "Your toma, will you need help retrieving them?"

Meryl shook her head and decided to get down to business, "No, of course not. They'll come back… Are you Vash the Stampede?" Her heart was pounding in her throat. There's no way this man _couldn't_ be him! He had the red coat, the blond hair… Familiar eyes, but she couldn't quite place them. He held himself so purposefully that there was no mistaking this had to be the famous gunman who destroyed July City and was called the Humanoid Typhoon!

The man considered her question for a moment, his eyes scanning the road where they stood. It was empty for now but people would be after him soon. It wasn't safe for them to be having this conversation in the open like this, and if the townspeople were to find him… "We can't talk here. If you are unharmed then I'm going to have to leave you and draw off the fire." He started away but Meryl dashed after him.

"But if you're Vash the Stampede then I have to tell you that the bounty was lifted! You aren't worth anything anymore and…"

His eyes turned on her and a smile spread over his lips. It was full of straight white teeth, and Meryl wasn't completely sure whether it was a smile of happiness or not. "And I represent the Bernadelli Insurance Society and we've come to help." _Where'd that come from?_ Meryl swallowed, she really hadn't meant to say that, but the way he looked there in front of her, she didn't think he was all that scary, at least no more scary than the people following them!

"Help?" Vash's mouth quirked into a smile.

Milly and Meryl nodded. Milly pulled out her stun gun. "We've been trained as Risk Prevention agents, and it is our duty…"

Gunfire erupted and the tall blond man dashed to the girls, swept them each up under an arm and leapt straight up and onto the rooftop. Meryl gasped, Milly couldn't help but exclaim a squeal of delight, and both of them looked at each other, then up to the man that held them. "He really _is_ Vash the Stampede," Meryl said in awe as he set them down carefully.

"I'm called that," Vash said, his eyes on the look out, only taking in the two women briefly. "I've got dangerous men after me, not just the townspeople here. If you could take care of either of them, I'll let you help me, and I'll tell you anything you want to know." He made it a point to look at Meryl a bit longer than Milly, and she settled her hands on her hips and pulled her cape open so that he could see her derringers. Vash laughed. "I thought you seemed a bit heavy."

"I'm called Derringer Meryl," she said, "and this is Stun Gun Milly." Milly nodded at her name and Vash smiled at them warmly.

"Is it really true that the bounty is off my head? Or are you two just bounty hunters in disguise?"

"We'd never do anything so dangerous," Milly chirped. Then she stuck her finger to her lip, "Oh wait, I guess this is just about as dangerous… But we're salaried, so I guess it works out in the end." She grinned and the gunman shook his head.

"She always this blond?"

"Afraid so," Meryl replied. "But trustworthy to a fault." She glanced down to the street below; there were people dashing everywhere and her eyes caught sight of movement upon the rooftops as well. "We have to get out of here. Do you know where the base of operations is?"

Vash nodded, "In the town square. I'll take you there, if you can keep up," he said over his shoulder and started off at a graceful run. Meryl blinked, looked at Milly, shrugged and then the two insurance girls ran after him as he leapt from one building to the next on the way into town. Meryl noticed he was careful to avoid deep alleys and long distances, at least, until the very end when he leapt down onto a fire escape and Milly and Meryl stopped at the edge of the building and looked down at him, their breaths fast but controlled.

"You did better than I expected," he said, reaching up his hands. "Jump down to me, I'll catch you."

In all of the excitement, Milly started to climb up onto the ledge but Meryl hauled her back, "How do we know he didn't do all of this just to drop us in the alley?"

Milly blinked, then swallowed, fear registering in her eyes suddenly. "Oh yeah." With light blue eyes gone wide, she asked, "You think he'd do that?"

"Well… I'm not sure," Meryl glanced at Vash and made up her mind after a moment. "Let me go first, then if anything happens to me, you can kill him."

"Don't say that again Meryl…" Milly tried to retort, but Meryl was already making the leap. Vash reached out, grabbed her hips and set her down gently on the fire escape. He waved to Milly and she held her breath and jumped as well. He caught her as if she were as light as a feather and set her down onto the metal grating.

"Wow, you're strong," Milly said in awe.

"And you're a good runner," Vash replied.

He pushed down the ladder. "The town's square is just down this alley and around the corner. Talk to the mayor and get them to stop the fighting and I'll meet up with you on the edge of town tonight." The gunman moved the girls toward the ladder but Meryl stopped him.

"How do we know you aren't just going to bolt?"

Vash smiled, and completely stunning her, he reached up and ran his fingers through her short black hair. Meryl blinked at him. It was the first time any guy had looked at her like this, his eyes soft and curious, so different from the lustful expression of the stranger in the alley! Then Meryl remembered all the research from his file and could have kicked herself. She'd forgotten about the rumor he was a womanizer until she had already fallen for it and melted right there in his gaze. "I keep my word," he said finally and then instantly he was gone, back up on the rooftops and running away. Men were shouting, there was gunfire as the girls climbed down the fire escape.

"You're blushing!" Milly exclaimed when they were on the ground again. Most people would have taken the opportunity to tease the raven-haired girl but Milly knew how fragile Meryl could be at times, and she was pretty sure this was one of them. Seems she had two men sweet on her now! Perhaps Meryl would choose one of them on her own…

"I am NOT!" Meryl snapped, shaking her head fiercely. Case in point, thought Milly to herself, and wisely decided not to say anything more about it.

She patted her cheeks and started walking in the direction Vash told her they needed to go. "I'm just hot from all the running and he caught me off-guard, that's all."

Milly chuckled, "Remember our pact, right? About guys and relationships?"

"Stop that, Milly! I know my job! Come on!" Meryl stalked out of the alley, with a strong desire to whip out one of her derringers except there wasn't anyone to shoot at. One could practically see the dark cloud gathering over the fuming risk agent's head and following her. Milly stifled a giggle with a hand over her mouth.

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**Fifty Double Dollars for Whiskey & Information**

**Stardate: 09-06-0110-19:00**

At Lob's Diner, which sat about fifteen iles west of Valadour, a long white car pulled up and parked. It was a dark, dingy little place where truckers and caravans stopped on their way from one city or another. The only reason the diner existed at all was because of the huge plant bulb that lay in the sand behind it, still in working condition even though the glass was cracked and there were only a handful of wires and mechanical components. Lob's father hooked up the plant with a keen sense of how the ancient technology worked, but Lob himself knew nothing more than how to press certain buttons to get it to produce electricity, water, and the occasional slab of roast beef. No matter how many times his father had tried to teach him, the specifics of the weird thing never did sink in and his father had now long since passed on.

Lob ran the diner by himself. He stood behind the counter with a little white cap, his eyes squinting and a pipe between his lips as he wiped a plate. Closed for the evening due to lack of business, the front door was locked and he was about ready to go home for the night after turning off the pinball machine to conserve energy when suddenly he heard a tingling sound above the door. Lob turned, his eyebrows narrowed as a tall dark stranger walked in the front door. _Didn't I lock that?_ He put down his plate, "We're closed, buddy."

"I know," the stranger said as he stepped into the light. Lob looked him up and down. Tall man, blond hair, black coat, black boots coated in dirt, and his hand resting on a black gun at his side. "I'll pay you for your time," he said simply, his hand coming off the gun and reaching deeper within his coat before pulling a small purse from hiding. From within it, he pulled out two golden coins and tossed them to Lob.

The owner looked over the coins, "These are twenty-five double dollar coins…" He hastily shoved them into his pocket. "What do you want?"

Coming to sit down at the counter, the stranger smiled. "Two young women came through here earlier today didn't they?"

Lob nodded. "Yeah, they were after Vash the Stampede."

"And what did you tell them?"

"That he was in Valadour. I told them they should avoid the guy, he's dangerous, but I have a feeling they may have been after his bounty. A buncha guys headed that way right before they came in for just that reason." Lob stood back from the counter as the stranger reached over it and helped himself to a bottle of eighty proof whiskey. He straightened, pulling the cork from the bottle with his teeth, spat the cork out and tipped it back into his waiting mouth to guzzle it. After a few deep gulps, he righted the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So, he is nearby just like I thought," he murmured to himself. The man stood, taking the bottle with him. "I'll keep this," he said, waving the bottle at Lob. "I'd imagine fifty double dollars cover it." Quiet as a ghost, he stalked out of the diner and into the street. The bell didn't even ring as he exited. The stranger's expression was dark as he took another swig of the bottle.

Elendira stepped out of the darkness wearing a white suit coat of woven of fine silk, a rare commodity that only the most finely tuned plants could produce, pressed pants and a small cap on her tightly bunned hair. Pressing her dark red lips together, she walked beside the black-coated stranger. "What did he have to say, Master?"

"He's in Valadour and the girls were headed that way about twelve hours ago," her master replied, his lips pursed. "The girls have undoubtedly found my brother by now. I hope he appreciates his present from me." He laughed and it echoed into the night.

* * *

**Outskirts of Valadour**

**Stardate: 09-06-0110-22:00**

That evening when things were finally settled after the horrors of dealing with the Nebraska family and settling the town's hunt, Milly and Meryl found their toma on the edge of town and brought them to the nearest well to get them watered and cleaned up for traveling. Meryl still couldn't believe how swift Vash was able to bring the bandits down with that huge silver gun of his, or how careful he was not to kill anyone in the process. She was starting to think the rumors were all wrong, that it wasn't Vash the Stampede who was to blame for so much destruction, but from those that wanted his bounty, or someone who had it out for him. Meryl wondered whom these dangerous men were that Vash had mentioned earlier that day.

He had, for all intensive purposes, disappeared that evening. She sighed, sitting down on the edge of the well while Milly rubbed down her toma, cleaning the dirt from its beak. "You okay Meryl?"

"I'm fine Milly."

"You disappointed that Vash disappeared?"

Meryl glanced at her friend. Milly's blue eyes were turned to her task, although thoughtful. Only Meryl knew just how smart her friend was and how much she kept it hidden until her intuitiveness and sharpness were needed. Milly felt Meryl's gaze and smiled. Meryl shrugged, allowing her gray eyes to disappear below her bangs as she looked down into the well. It was that same dark aqua color of Vash's eyes… She snapped out of it. This was _no_ time to be thinking about how cute he was! But he had been so gentle picking them up and carrying them to safety, and he had been so kind to them, acting as if he really needed their help that for a moment she really did believe him. "I'm just stupid, that's all."

"What?"

"Never mind," Meryl stood from her perch and pulled the feedbag from her toma's mouth. It squawked in annoyance as she put it away in their things. "Well, do you think we should find a hotel for the night or just continue on?"

Milly sighed, "You really think he's left?"

"Oh probably. Not everyone believed us when we said his bounty was gone. It's just lucky that the Nebraska family had such a large bounty on them that will take care of the repairs to the plants."

She tightened the harnesses on her toma and went around to the left side of her bird and mounted. Milly was still standing next to hers as it made a purring sound in its throat as she scratched it behind the head. "We aren't getting anywhere just sitting here."

"You're right." Milly took the reins of her toma and was about to mount when she froze in place. Meryl frowned, watching her partner, and then followed her gaze. A man wearing all black with a black bag over his shoulder approached them. Meryl suddenly remembered the man from the alley… Could it be the same man? Was he finally showing himself? She swallowed deeply. The only difference between this guy and the other one was that this one's hair was shorter and he carried himself with dignity. Her hands squeezed the reins of her toma tightly, ready to make a run for it if necessary. She wished that Milly had gotten on her own mount faster.

"Mr. Vash?" Milly asked in almost a whisper nearby.

He looked at them with a neutral expression. "You waited."

"And you didn't leave," Meryl responded. She started breathing again, realizing that this wasn't the same man… Although the resemblance was remarkable. Maybe there really _were_ two men, and this was one of them! It would certainly explain the red coat, and now the black… "Where's your coat?"

Vash patted his bag, "Hidden. I know better than to stir up more commotion with it this late," his eyes were still careful and searching their surroundings. "I have a truck waiting at the edge of town with one of my associates. If you want, you can come with us and we'll talk."

"Sounds reasonable. But where was this _associate_ of yours earlier?"

"Minding things," Vash replied simply. He turned and after Milly mounted her toma they followed him to the truck just like as he had said.

It was well past dark by that time, the moons already rising in the east as Milly and Meryl got down from their toma. A man stuck his head out of the driver's side. "Chapel, help the girls get their toma secured. I want to be out of town within the half hour." Vash disappeared around to the other side as his associate jumped out of the truck.

"Didn't think I'd ever see the boss pickin' up girls," he said with a grin and a slightly northern accent. His voice was deep and almost musical.

Vash's associate wore a black suit with a white shirt unbuttoned beneath showing an expanse of broad, tanned chest. He bowed slightly in front of Milly and looked at her with shadowy gray eyes through heavy dark bangs. Those eyes hinted at many things hidden within their depths, yet he had such a cheerful exterior. All Milly knew was that for the first time in her life, her knees felt weak and her breath caught in her throat as he stared at her. She tried to give him a smile and was sure that all she managed was a rather pathetic, watery grin. She lowered her eyes to something she hoped was safer. That was when she noticed the black choker around his throat and the cross that dangled below it.

"I'm Nicholas D. Wolfwood, at your service." He extended his hand to Milly and she took it in her own, but instead of shaking, he kissed it gently. Milly blinked; suddenly it was _her_ turn to blush. _Wow…_ She thought to herself as he backed up a step, still holding her hand. Milly knew she'd had guys…boys…men…hit on her before, but they were all just… Never had anyone _this_ handsome looked at her like _this_ before! She desperately hoped that perhaps he wasn't just being nice to her, feeling sorry for her. How many times did the cute ones do that to her? Too many times to count!

Meryl elbowed her and Milly was forced to turn her eyes from him and take her hand away from his. Wolfwood took Meryl's hand as well, but she shook it heartily and didn't allow her hand anywhere near his lips. The nerve. Her eyes caught silver cross cufflinks, and her memory suddenly recalled the rumor of the group of religious types following Vash the Stampede… "Mr. Vash called you Chapel. Are you a priest?"

"Yes, however not exactly a conventional one," he looked at Milly and winked. She flushed as he turned from them and took their toma's reins and carefully pulled them into the back of the truck. The girls watched him to make sure that they were going to be well secured and Nicholas continued, "Must not be conventional girls either, from the looks of ya, if Spikey… If Vash is allowing ya both to tag along."

"We're insurance agents," Milly piped up. She smiled and Wolfwood laughed.

"You _are_, are ya? I didn't think the boss needed insurance, but I suppose…" He winked at her and closed the tailgate of the truck. The toma chirped and eyed them before sitting down on their haunches for the ride. Apparently they were used to traveling this way. "I think I might need insurance too… We'll have to discuss it later, Miss…?"

"Milly Anne Thompson," Milly chirped, blinking. "But you can call me Milly…"

"I'd have it no other way," Wolfwood replied, "So long as you call me Nicholas."

Meryl rolled her eyes at this open display of flirting. "You can call me MISS Meryl Stryfe," she dragged Milly away and shoved her toward the cab of the truck.

"We're Risk Management agents," Meryl said as Wolfwood followed them. "We were sent here to keep Vash the Stampede under twenty-four our surveillance to discover whether he is really a threat to our company or not."

"And if he is?" The dark haired man asked with an amused smile.

"We're supposed to kill him," Milly said.

Nicholas' smile disappeared, "Legato's not going to like that…" He shrugged off what he said at the same time, as Meryl was about to ask about this _gato_, didn't that mean cat or something? "We've got to get going. We meet with the rest of our party in a few hours. Hop in."

Wolfwood pulled the driver's side open and helped Meryl in first, she found herself jammed in tightly thigh to thigh with Vash as Milly and the priest wedged themselves into the cab as well. "Quite the squeeze," Nick said with a hearty laugh. "Glad you're the one next to me," he said to Milly with a wink.

"Oh my," Milly replied turning red.

Meryl would probably have elbowed her again if she weren't having her own problems with the Humanoid Typhoon. Too close, she was _definitely_ too close to him and she could feel his every breath even though at this point he was all but ignoring them, keeping an eye out the window of the cab as Wolfwood started the vehicle into the desert. From this angle she could see he had freshly shaved and she could smell the musky aftershave on his neck. Although, she wasn't sure what type it was to compare it with the rumors. Maybe she would ask Milly about it later.

As if only now becoming aware of her, Vash glanced down at her, "What was your name again?"

"Meryl Stryfe," the small insurance agent said, although she hadn't remembered telling him her name before anyway. This wasn't exactly the way she wanted to introduce herself, but the circumstances had changed so quickly…

Vash nodded. "And you're from Bernadelli?"

"That's right."

"I didn't know Bernadelli was so short on help," he mused, turning to look out the window again. "Sending little girls out into the desert… Let me guess, you two drew the short straws on this assignment?"

Meryl frowned, he was blunt wasn't he? Up until this point she hadn't had much time to think about how fast their search for the Stampede had ended. Suddenly here they were, sitting thigh to thigh in a pick-up truck, having a conversation about her job. She tried not to let her temper get the better of her, so she decided to defend Mr. Bernadelli's decision the only way she could. "We were hired for it immediately after our last agents were killed by you…"

Meryl trailed off. Those photographs of the sliced up agents came to her mind suddenly and Meryl moved nervously, nearly sitting on Milly's lap as she did so, realizing how hard her heart had started pounding. It didn't matter if he was handsome or not, there was that one little bit of information she still could not deny as being fact. _It's okay Meryl; maybe he really wasn't to blame for James and Connor… Maybe it was whoever was after him…_

"I remember them," he said slowly. Milly tensed below Meryl and wrapped her arms around her friend. Meryl bit her tongue remembering she'd have to wean Milly of that habit.

Wolfwood moved in his seat, "Yeah, damned bad luck to face…" Everyone in the cab could feel the frown that Vash directed at Wolfwood who immediately shut up.

Milly looked down at her partner. She _wasn't_ liking this talk and now that they were sitting between two outlaws… _Oh this wasn't a good idea Meryl!_ She wanted to run away, to hide, to do something, but they were trapped going heaven knew where, "So what happened to them?" She immediately regretted it the moment the words slipped from her lips.

Meryl flashed her a look that Nicholas didn't catch. "Sliced up," he said. "I was there when it happened. Poor bastards. They never saw it coming."

"Slic…cccedd, up?" Milly whispered, shaking and turned to look at Meryl, her eyes wide and awareness of their helplessness in this situation coming home to her in force. "You… You didn't…tell me that Meryl."

"You didn't need to know," her friend said, feeling Milly's hand wrapping ever tighter around her waist. "So who did it?"

"I did," Vash said simply. He didn't look at them, in fact, as Meryl watched him, he looked almost sorrowful, and as if he regretted what he did. However she couldn't stop shaking and he was still ignoring her. Poor Milly was nearly ready to wet herself until Vash turned to look at them. A tear rolled down his cheek and Meryl blinked, confused. He wiped it away, "I'm sorry, you don't have anything to worry about, it was all a big mistake."

Nicholas was nodded, "That's right. They were trying to kill him and they got caught up…" He closed his mouth, his eyes squinting out into the dark desert. "We're here."


	15. CH 14 The Eye of Michael

_Thanks again to our patient (cough grin cough) reviewers, Erin Sasaki, Aine of Knockaine, mouse, Renleek, hope-is-4ever!! We're REALLY sorry you all have had to wait so long for an update. Seems our lives have just not been as conducive to writing as we would have liked. Oi vey. We'd love to promise an earlier release on the next chapter... it is already in the hands of our wonderful beta, Themis56 - so cross your fingers! And in the meantime...check out the beautiful drawings of dwellin on her dART site!! _

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it), and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 14**

**Eye of Michael Camp**

**Stardate: 09-07-0110-2:00**

At a place that was fifty miles on the opposite side of Valadour, Meryl sat cross-legged on a cot across from Milly's. At every strange noise, and there were plenty of them, they would exchange nervous glances. It was late now, and when they first climbed into bed, they found themselves too wound up to sleep. However, it was nearing midnight now as bright blue eyes sought her traveling companion's dove gray ones, and even though Milly knew Meryl was as tense as she was, she only saw the fire of determination there. Meryl refused to be intimidated by this strange turn of events. A yawn forced its way out and when Milly was finished, she turned her gaze back to Meryl. The small camp lantern was hanging above her head, bathing the smaller agent in a dim yellow glow, bringing into sharp contrast the dark circles under Meryl's eyes. The smaller lamp sitting on the small table next to her cot also showed the bruises acquired as a result of running into things. Milly frowned sleepily. Meryl was working too hard, again as she watched Meryl scribbling rapidly on in her field book.

Right then, a shadow crossed over the canvas side of their private tent as the sentry crossed between them and the fire. She followed the progress silently. Without much interest, she noted this sentry was a new one, much taller and with wider shoulders. They certainly were serious about security around here. At first that had bothered her. What were they so scared of? Now she was less concerned with the camp and more focused on their own personal safety.

Her eyes blinked slowly and she fought against another jaw-popping yawn. Okay, with each passing minute she was less and less concerned about safety and more and more about sleeping. However, if Meryl wasn't going to sleep, than she shouldn't either. Another yawn threatened and she clamped her teeth together in an effort to keep it from escaping. Darn. The yawns were getting more persistent and harder to control.

Meryl watched her friend from the corner of her eye and could tell that Milly was beginning to fade despite the situation, which they currently found themselves in. Despite outward appearances, everything had happened so fast that Meryl was inwardly reeling with the sudden change.

Meryl could hear Milly audibly swallow before she asked in a tired, strained whisper, "How many hours until it's dawn, do you think?" She watched as the flickering lamplight played over her friend's face, as shadows danced first, one way and then another.

Meryl placed her pen in the journal to mark her place and closed it before dropping it in her lap. Rubbing aching knuckles before she pulled the scratchy blanket back up around her shoulders that, unnoticed by her, had slipped off while she was writing. "I don't know, but maybe we should try taking turns and get some sleep. I can take the first watch," she said, knowing, of the two of them, that sleep was crucial for her friend. Not only did Milly sleep like the proverbial dead, she also fell asleep much quicker than Meryl. It wasn't a tough decision to make, Milly needed to sleep first; that was all there was to it.

Milly's eyes were drifting shut and Meryl knew she wouldn't make it much longer. Milly yawned again and collapsed onto her pillow. It felt heavenly. With her eyes already shut, she toed her boots off, first one and then the other. Her coat was already folded neatly at the end of the bed, but she refused to remove her pants and shirt, in case of an emergency. With a throaty mew of contentment, she pulled the covers over her head. Meryl decided to shoulder the responsibility of their safety, as usual. The twinge of guilt, which was warring with her weary body, prompted her to open one eye to a half slit.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

With a nod, Meryl gestured at the thermos on the table next to the lamp. "I've got plenty of coffee and if anything happens I'll wake you up." Milly seemed to be comforted by that and drifted to sleep almost immediately. Meryl straightened her aching back with relief and stretched her legs out, flexing her feet out in front of her before pulling them to sit cross-legged again.

Her thoughts went back to their arrival at the camp earlier that day, of Vash, and of his odd choice of traveling companions. What they both were surprised to find was that the camp was made up of religious types as far as she could tell. That alone baffled her. Vash the Stampede finding religion made about as much sense as drinking sand for quenching thirst. It didn't. Yet, they were true ascetics. She found that out immediately when they arrived.

Men froze in their tracks, hands slowing at their tasks until they completely stopped to stare opened-mouthed at the young women being helped down from the truck cab. It was not uncommon for these young women as pretty as they were, to be gawked at, lewdly so oftentimes, and they were both used to it now. However, these stares were filled with shock and in some of those faces, more than a little hostility.

The first one they were introduced to, the priest, was an older man Vash also called Chapel. Apparently it was a title rather than a name as the younger Chapel, Wolfwood, didn't look related to this older gentleman at all. The elder Chapel was bearded, sat in a wheelchair like it was a throne, and gave them such a forbidding frozen look the it caused both women to halt in their tracks. Neither wanted to get near him and would rather shake the hand of a slobbering toma with rabies before they would let this man touch them.

Milly gave a weak wave and tried to smile. Meryl didn't bother, instead she narrowed her eyes as she studied the man. Even though he was in a wheel chair, his upper body was well defined with thick muscles. Meryl was positive he could break her in half if he had a mind to. This man of the cloth made her flesh creep.

From under dark grizzled brows, eyes cold and flat assessed them and both women knew they were unwanted and unwelcome intruders in his domain. This strange man. There was a presence emanating from him of power, authority, and cruelty. His hard eyes and unsmiling face were at odds with the polite greeting he gave as he welcomed them to the camp. Both women shivered.

They weren't introduced to anyone else, but Vash promised further introductions would come in the morning. To their immense relief, he ushered them away, leaving the two Chapels to converse quietly while a third man, Livio, stood nearby keeping watch. Livio was taller than Vash or Wolfwood, a big hulking man who rarely spoke, the long white hair flowing like a curtain around his face and the skull mask hiding the left side.

Outside of scary man-of-the-cloth, Livio worried her the most of all of them, but the moment they were whisked over to a spacious tent, another elderly gentleman walked up to them with a friendly, professional expression. Excusing himself with a rueful grin, Vash left, striding toward some other tents nearby. Turning their attention to the man in front of them, they gave him a friendly smile. So far he seemed the closest to normal, a normal they were desperately in need of at the moment. A normal they had not known since starting this assignment. Normal at the moment was a completely bald man with a face sculpted from worries, cares, and hardships. The gentleman extended his hand to the girls as if he had been waiting for them to arrive. In a pleasant baritone he informed them, "My name is William Conrad. You may call me Bill."

Right away, the doctor saw how edgy both women were, backs rigid with darting looks to the side as if trying to spot any danger before it could take them by surprise. Rarely did he have contact with females but he was raised to be a gentleman and knew they were uneasy about their current circumstances. Slowly, he extended his hand and took Meryl and Milly's hands gingerly. Looking up, he saw Livio passing by and waved him over now that he was finished his business with Chapel and Chapel.

When the young hulk came up to them, Conrad asked him to set up a tent for the girls. Livio looked both females over, his eye roaming over them without a hint of any vulgar undertones. Milly caught his eye and found herself startled at the quick glint of gentleness that flashed past them which was at odds with his fierce appearance.

After inspecting the two, the hulking man nodded before disappearing into the camp, allowing Meryl and Milly the time to observe their surroundings. Vash was nowhere to be seen now, so they allowed Bill to usher them to a communal tent for a late dinner.

Conrad turned out to be the camp's physician and seemed genuinely interested in their lives at the insurance agency while answering Meryl's blitz of questions about his own life as a doctor in July City when she found out that he had lived there. She wondered how he had survived that terrible incident, and pried as much as she could without being too conspicuous or rude. She nodded when he told them that he had been called out of town for a job and had narrowly missed being killed in the tragedy. After that, Conrad spoke very little about what happened in the six years that followed, but the excitement of the day and long ride were catching up with them. Both were more than ready to relax when Livio returned, and quietly announced in his deep rumble that their tent was ready.

Livio lifted the flap door of the tent and waited for them to exit first. They were about to rise from their seats when Vash ducked into the tent and sat down at their table. Meryl swallowed. The clean scent of sandalwood soap drifted over to her. Not only that, but he was looking good in a freshly laundered and pressed white shirt, and was also clean-shaven after the day's events. Not fair.

"There should be hot water in about a half hour," he said with a smile, looking from one girl to the other. "I imagine you two would enjoy getting cleaned up before going to bed?"

Meryl only nodded, but Milly smiled, "Thank you Mr. Vash, that would be very kind. All of this traveling really gets a girl tense. Is it a shower or a bath? I've been dying for a bath…"

Vash smiled, "I'm afraid you'll have to make do with a shower for now," he stood from his seat and went to get a cup of coffee from the table at the side of the room. He returned after a moment and sat down with the coffee in one hand and a cup of sugar cubes in the other. Plopping one after another into the coffee, eventually he stirred until they were dissolved before sipping the dark liquid from the spoon. "We're leaving in the morning."

"I suspected as much," Conrad murmured. He pushed away from the table, "If you will excuse me ladies, I must retire." He bowed and took his leave of the group.

"The good doctor has taken a liking to you," Vash said, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. "Normally he's not nearly as eloquent."

Milly nodded, "He's a very nice man. How long has he worked for you?"

Vash shrugged, "Seems like forever." He sipped his coffee, and Meryl stood and went to help herself to some of the black liquid. She came back with cream and reached for the sugar cubes. In a blurring movement, Vash grabbed her wrist, surprising her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this sugar was for…"

"It's not about the sugar," the blond man said. "You don't wear any rings. You aren't married?"

Meryl flushed, "No, why would I be?"

"We're working women, Mr. Vash," Milly piped up. She held up her hands and showed him that she wasn't wearing jewelry either. Although Meryl had a lucky pair of earrings she was wearing, slivers of titanium her father gave her. She was told that they had been melted down from an ancient bullet he found in the sand around December City. They were expensive since the plants couldn't reproduce titanium and the planet itself had no mines of the stuff, only silver, gold, coal, and a few others.

"We don't have time for boyfriends or settling down because of the nature of our job."

"The two men who came after me the last time had wives," he murmured with such quiet sadness they knew it wasn't meant to be overheard. Gently, he released Meryl's hand so she could retrieve the sugar cubes. She couldn't help but glance at him from under obscuring bangs.

"I didn't know they were married, did you Meryl?" Asked Milly, forcing Meryl to look up when she would rather keep her face hidden.

The insurance girl turned her head to look at her friend who was staring back at her with wide questioning eyes. Milly was wondering why there was a no-boyfriend rule when there didn't seem to be a no-girlfriend rule as well. And married to boot! It didn't seem fair to her. "I wasn't told." Meryl shrugged, "Being men perhaps they couldn't help themselves."

An amused chuckle came from the handsome blond but she pretended not to hear it.

The shorter agent decided that the best way to deal with this uncertain emotion threatening to overwhelm her was to go on the offensive. Flicking a casual finger at Vash's own hands to indicate that his bare finger had not gone unnoticed now that his gloves were off.

"You haven't gotten married either, I assume?" She put her coffee to her lips and sipped slowly as she waited for his reply.

"No, I haven't. Many women have admired my looks, but I find them irritatingly boring." He smiled to himself, "You don't find me attractive. _Do_ you?"

Sands take him! What a conceited man! And just when she was starting to relax too! The way he fastened those blue green orbs on her made Meryl's heart turn over in her chest, only to choke in the next moment when she swallowed and a stone stuck in her throat. Thankfully, the half-dissolved sugar cube was already making its way down her throat but that didn't stop her from coughing and sputtering while Vash watched her with amusement as he leisurely sipped from his cup.

Alarmed, Milly reached over and thumped her small friend on the back. Maybe it was a little pat to Milly but it was a thumping that knocked Meryl into the table, bouncing her off to slide over and she would have fallen sideways ending up in the handsome blond's lap if she hadn't grabbed the edge of the table and caught herself. Why did these things seem to happen to her with disconcerting frequency?

"No, not at all," she protested, "What makes you think that? I'm not attracted to you at all!" Meryl sputtered to an embarrassed halt realizing that she was objecting too much. With a growing flush she glanced over at Milly looking for help, but her friend seemed oblivious to her plight now that her dark-haired friend wasn't in imminent danger of choking to death.

Meryl's eyes turned to where Milly was looking and noticed that she was watching Livio, standing quietly in the corner as if he were a statue. Meryl shivered, from this direction she could only see the skull side of his face, and she couldn't help but wonder if it were only a mask or a real skull.

Milly found Livio intriguing. He was the only one of the men who didn't speak more than a few odd phrases and always, contrary to his appearance, it was a deep and soft, soothing tone of voice. Even through his dangerous looking mask, she could see softness in his eyes. Those eyes! She thought Mr. Vash's were odd, but these were beyond her comprehension. His eyes were not unkind but rather like a magnet, pulling hers into them. She wouldn't be surprised to find that he could gage the intentions of her heart and soul while yet his own thoughts were well guarded. For her own sake of sanity, she looked away from Livio with his white hair a wild nimbus around his head and his other-worldly yellow eyes as a shiver ran like lightening up and down her spine.

Staring at the canvas sides of the tent, she knew, deep within her that something wasn't quite right with him, just like she knew they couldn't completely trust Mr. Vash either. She made a mental note to tell this to Meryl, already picturing her nodding solemnly to Milly's insights. The tall blond was glad that her shorter partner took her keen perceptions seriously. It assured her that she was a productive member of the team as usually her first impressions were normally dead-on. There was something here that was sending off alarms within her and she had the impression that the whole camp was putting on some kind of phony show. Definitely there was a darker purpose beneath the surface. Maybe when she and Meryl put their heads together they could figure it out. Then she realized that the buzz of conversation next to her was continuing and made an effort to tune back in.

Vash was still chuckling deep within his chest, a melodic sound as he put his coffee to his lips again. "I'd expect as much from two women such as yourselves traveling out here in the desert. Soft city types rarely travel alone without male escorts."

With an unexpected, and swift movement, he set the cup down and stood up and seemed to Meryl to loom over them. She fought to keep herself from leaning into Milly, for one thing she didn't want him to see her reaction and for another, she was a trained field agent and, dammit this was suppose to be her job! Risk prevention was her entire life now, as was preventing him from hurting anyone.

"Your water should be hot by now. Livio can take you to the tent." His eyes lingered over Meryl's features as if hunting for something she was keeping hidden from him. Try as she might, Meryl couldn't break the connection. She was thoroughly trapped in his gaze. Vash smiled as if he knew the affect he was having on her and right then Meryl felt her blood beginning to boil. She was half expecting him to invite her for a little 'chat' in his tent. _Oh no, I am not going to be one of your conquests, no sir, Mr. Womanizer, you can get that out of your head right now or I'll have to get it out for you with my derringers!_ Her eyes began to narrow menacingly when he asked...

"You like coffee, right? I'll have a thermos delivered to your tent if you like."

"Thank you," Meryl replied, startled. That wasn't the question she was expecting. She was relieved when he moved away a few steps to speak in low tones to one of his men. Which one was it again, Livio? Yes, yes, that's right, mustn't forget names now, she had to remember enough to take notes to send back to headquarters!

Milly started to stand up but found her friend's small hand clamped onto her arm. Turning to look over at her, Milly started in surprise and then kicked herself for being so oblivious. Meryl was shaken to the core by something. The tall field agent frowned in thought. Had Mr. Vash said anything threatening to Meryl or inappropriate? She didn't think so. She was about to open her mouth to ask when Meryl hissed at her from the side of her mouth. "Not here Milly, wait 'til we're alone."

Good, that was what Milly wanted too.

Both girls stood, Meryl with a death grip holding steady, smiled politely while saying goodnight before taking their leave of Vash.

Only when Milly whined, "Meryl!" did she relax her grip somewhat as she pulled Milly along in her wake.

Livio waited for them at the tent flap and, like earlier, lifted it for them as they exited before him. Once outside they realized they didn't know where to go. They turned toward Livio as he came abreast of them. He took the lead without comment and they followed without a sound. It reminded them of an army encampment, Meryl thought briefly, that it was just unnerving. The petite woman could easily imagine that they might have been in a war zone. As they followed behind their huge guide, the two women, by mutual, unspoken agreement, clutched onto each other, practically joined at the hip. Meryl kicked herself for letting fear get in the way of doing her job, but right at the moment it was very comforting to be walking so close together.

The ground crunching under their footsteps was the only sound heard for neither one wanted to say anything at the moment, waiting for later when they were alone.

Livio stopped in front of a tent and lifted up the flap for them. "Your bags are within," he murmured.

Meryl scooted past him with a hasty thanks and Milly tried to scoot by him quickly as Meryl did, but tripped instead. She cursed her darn big feet; well, in her opinion they were big because here she was falling like a graceless klutz in front of this man. Throwing out her hands to break her fall, she was taken by surprise to feel a large, calloused hand grip her elbow and lift her up with ease.

"Uh, th… thanks... Mr. uh, yeah, uh thanks." She whispered in a panic when her mind went blank on his name. She hurried into the tent, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You're welcome, Miss." Came a return whisper so soft and low she thought for a moment that she had imagined it.

Once inside, they glanced at the flimsy walls of canvas that served as the showering tent and then at each other, the same thought on their minds. Meryl had a streak of modesty and glanced at Livio who was looking at them still holding the flap up. With her eyes on Livio, she whispered to Milly, "Do you think it's safe to take a shower with all of these men around?"

Her friend started to open her mouth, but the man addressed them directly for the first time. "I wouldn't allow it even if they weren't all priests, unable to partake in the company of females."

Milly smiled, "That's, um… A relief," she murmured.

She thought about Wolfwood and his flirting with her earlier. Such a pity if it were true, he was quite a handsome man not to be able to ever marry and have children. She went to place her effects on one of the dressing tables but knew Meryl hung back, asking Livio one last question.

"And what about you?"

Livio didn't look at her, "I'm not a priest, but I have other reasons for not spying on you. My master would be displeased and it would be within his rights to have me killed instantly. I believe you have seen evidence of his technique." Meryl swallowed, instantly thinking of their predecessors. Livio paid no mind, merely turned and dropped the tent flap to stand guard outside of the tent.

Milly noted that Meryl took the fastest shower in her entire career that night.

Later that evening, once they were shown to their tent and unpacked, Meryl watched Milly sleeping and felt her own eyelids begin to droop. With a jerk, she forced herself to sit up straight and then drank the dregs in her cup. A couple more hours and then she could wake Milly.

To keep herself awake she went over what she had written in her journal. So far she had no reason to believe that Vash was anything other than a helpless bystander. It appeared he was wrongly accused of destroying a city, had a bounty put on him, and the moment the hunters picked up on his scent they were all over him stirring up trouble. She wondered whether or not he had joined these wandering priests in order to have some protection, but it only occurred to her now. And if so, what kind of protection did he need? From what she saw his abilities were beyond the ordinary gunman. She would have to ask him later, undoubtedly, although, come to think of it, he had never answered any of her questions directly.

Meryl closed her eyes, drifting off slightly before snapping to alert wakefulness again, catching herself on the brink of sliding into blessed sleep. She threw off the blankets and made her way over to the table to pour another cup of coffee. Milly should be allowed at least another hour of sleep, she thought to herself, wondering whether she'd actually be able to wake her friend up when the time came for the changing of the watch. It was probably safe enough in this camp for both of them to sleep, but she was still nervous about it.

As she went for the thermos however, her bladder gave her a pang and Meryl bit her lip. Recalling the layout of the camp, she didn't remember seeing a women's restroom anywhere, let alone a unisex toilet, come to think of it. And she wasn't about to go back to the shower tent that had a separate room for a toilet. Both were at the other end of the camp with dozens of tents between her and it. Rolling her eyes, she realized why, the camp was full of men, they could just relieve themselves anywhere they liked if the mood so took them.

With a sigh, she took glanced over at Milly's sleeping form and decided she could risk going out on her own for a few minutes. Meryl dug through her belongings, came up with a roll of toilet paper and poked her head out of the slit to peer about for any lurking perverts. She didn't see anyone, not even the sentry. Only when she was satisfied there was no movement, did she leave the tent. She had a derringer shoved in the back of her skirt, it was there since she re-dressed in her daytime clothes after her shower and it was a comforting weight. Meryl never went anywhere without one at hand, and had done so since her father first introduced the small hand-sized weapons to her.

It was deathly still for such a large camp. Meryl would have thought there should have been at least one more guard on duty. Moving slowly on her tiptoes, Meryl made her way to the edge of the camp, all the while listening to the snoring from neighboring tents and she hypothesized which snores came from which men. There were more than she expected, of course, not everyone snored, surely there were some that didn't... _Or, they aren't sleeping at all,_ Meryl thought in a moment of panic before getting a grip. _Most likely the guards, but where are they?_ Not knowing unnerved her enough to quicken her pace to find a small rock outcropping that would suffice for her needs and moved behind it.

When her business was finally done, she stood and headed back to camp, only for some odd movement to catch the corner of her eye. She halted, heart thumping in her chest, as she began scanning the immediate area. Not seeing anything, she willed herself to calm down but then blinked in surprise. For some unknown reason, she looked up, beyond the camp toward the desert. Standing on the rise of a dune staring down at her was a man in a long black duster with the tails flaring about him. Like a statue he stood there, making no threatening movement, just watching her. She waited for a second thinking it was Vash but very quickly she decided that something wasn't right about him. He may not have made any movements, but Meryl was acutely aware of the set of the shoulders, the coiled tension of his stance, and the animosity radiating off of him in waves. It wouldn't have surprised her if he pounced on her, which was crazy for her to think since he was quite a distance away from her. However, that didn't stop her from knowing how close she was to danger. It definitely wasn't the man who had brought them here.

Despite the danger, for some unknown reason, she began taking a step in his direction when she realized that it was someone she hadn't met earlier in the camp. _Is it the **other**__one? The man I met in December City? What is he doing here? How did he get here? Did he follow us?_ She didn't know a thing about him and he could be dangerous. For once Meryl decided on discretion being the better part of valor and suddenly afraid, darted into the tent, her chest heaving, and her heart pounding fiercely. She glanced out again through the slit between the flaps, but the figure was gone.

"Is something wrong, Meryl?" Milly asked from her bed, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Is it time for my watch yet?"

Meryl shook her head, closing the tent flap and went to sit on her bed, the toilet paper still clutched in her hands. She squeezed it tightly, "No, I just went to the bathroom. Go back to sleep Milly."

Her friend nodded slowly as she drifted off. Meryl realized she would let Milly sleep the remainder of the night, because she wasn't going to get any sleep herself, thinking of the stranger in black and why he watched her so intently.

9


	16. CH 15 Morning Duties

_Thanks again to our patient reviewers, Erin Sasaki, Aine of Knockaine, mouse, and hope-is-4ever!! Once again your patience has been rewarded! And as a special gift for Thanksgiving – two chapters for the price of one! We hope you enjoy both Ch. 15 and Ch. 16 – things finally get going!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it), and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 15**

**Morning Duties**

**Stardate: 09-08-0110-7:30**

Daybreak always held out its open arms for him. The unbearable darkness of the desert was pushed back with the bright glow of the twin-suns, the morning fog dispelled, and the sound of chirping birds brought him out of his unending nightmare. His eyes were tinged with red as he stared up at the dusty gray tarp above his head and the wooden beams crisscrossing the tent ceiling, staring but not seeing what was before him. The day before replayed itself in his mind over and over through the night until he passed out from exhaustion. Sleep tantalized him but eluded him when he reached for it. Wearily he surrendered the attempt, instead, began cataloguing the camp noises around him as others began their morning chores.

A movement stirred outside of the tent, and he pulled back the covers to place his feet on the floor. With fluid grace, he stood and stretched. Moving over to the main stabilizing pole, he sent a glance at the reflection of himself in a small mirror tacked there. Aqua green eyes stared back at him and he ran fingers through his hair. The sight was familiar now, even though the circumstances of his previous amnesia were still unclear. He knew his name, his _real_ name, even though others were careful not to use it around the presence of those outside the circle. _Millions Knives_, it struck fear in those who knew he had caused the destruction of July City, but it caused mere confusion for those who credited the incident to his brother Vash. For now, he used his brother's name only to cause fear and panic in the cities, also wearing the red coat to scare and startle the humans when he wanted to stir up trouble.

Valadour's disturbance had been unexpected. Knives simply wished to retrieve information about the Bernadelli agents on his tail, and in order to do so he pulled on his brother's coat and walked into town expecting to get his information and then retreat. It was a routine that usually worked quite well in the past. People would see his coat and hair, hear his name, and do whatever he wished so that they would be spared from his wrath and the violence of his passing through. When the woman in the restaurant pulled out the shotgun, Knives was taken completely by surprise. The entire town wanted his bounty. Apparently a town filled with lunatics with a death wish and absolutely no trace of self-preservation. It's hard to intimidate people like that and all of them wanting his bounty. What a mess that had created.

Knives refused to leave the town until it was all settled. People were already hurt from the stupid masses firing guns and explosives. When he saw the two women fall from their toma, he couldn't help but come over to them and see if they were okay. To find out they were from Bernadelli was an utter shock to his system! He thought by sending the letter covered in blood the agents would have ceased tracking him and find his brother instead… It was his hope that the Risk Prevention agents could stop Vash so he didn't have to, but instead they sent two little girls who caught wind of his own dealings due to Valadour's panic.

It made him uneasy, having them there in the crossfire. The tall one looked like she could hold her own, but to use such a huge weapon that had non-lethal ammo; it was unheard of. Then there was the shorter one used derringers and seemed to have a good head on her shoulders in a tight spot, but otherwise was insecure underneath her competent and confident exterior. They were both incredibly young and ridiculously inexperienced and a bit too attractive for their own good. As it was, any further out and the shreds of civilized veneer that thinly disguised the cauldron of lawless activity beneath would soon be left behind. Women as attractive as these were in more danger than they realized. First, it was unbelievable that these female children had been sent to find him, and second, it was folly that they would keep following him. He reached up and rubbed his forehead, which was beginning to ache. However, the fact that they had come this far showed their tenacity and he doubted they would be convinced to return home.

Originally he had decided to let them stop the city's hunt for him, and return to the camp without them. But during the proceedings of the day he found the note. Actually, a teen had run up to him, shoved the note under his nose, capturing his attention and said it was fresh from the telegraph office. Once Knives took it the messenger darted off, smart lad, back the way he had come. Wondering, Knives started to read and as he did so, his blood ran cold, for it said: "How does the name fit, eh, _Vash_? I don't mind sharing with you, since we are brothers and all. But see what else I gift you? I hope you appreciate the women I sent your way. You are way too rigid and uptight brother dearest. Take your pick, you need to get laid. If you don't want them, I'll take them back, especially the small one, she intrigues me. Signed, your Shadow."

Crumpling the piece of paper, Knives squeezed it in his fist before reigning in his emotions. With another glance at the crumpled paper in his hand, he knew what he had to do. With a muttered oath, he hurled the paper from him with a savage gesture. The pale blond knew who it was… Between his brother and his insane worshipper Legato, he was never left alone for long, always trailed by the two so forever on guard. Even surrounded by the Eye of Michael who vowed to protect him, he couldn't relax; always worrying that Vash would come out of hiding… He was already nearby, Knives felt him in the middle of the night like a nightmare in a long black coat and wearing red glowing sunglasses, lurking under the bed to could grab him at any time.

His heart pounded just thinking about it. Vash had the Gung-Ho Guns at his disposal, and if he had his way, would soon have the planet under his thumb. For Vash wanted nothing more than to pickup where Knives himself had left off. Why? Why Vash? The 'gentle twin', why him? How? He may not remember much of his previous life, but he did remember that Vash was the kind, soft-hearted one. What had happened between them to cause this? And why now, years later, was he seeking revenge? Knives shivered, unable to recall the anger everyone told him he possessed before he woke up in the debris of Lost July. Vash was out there somewhere, nearby, circling him like an orbiting moon. The two would meet at odd times but never spent long in each other's company for when Vash moved forward, Knives would pull back, a never-ending struggle between two people never more evenly matched. The unfair advantage was that only Vash had all of his memories, Knives did not.

Things had taken a turn for the worse for now he was no longer the sole focus of that maniac's attention. For some unknown reason, beyond the obvious, he was interested in these two insurance agents who didn't have a clue as to what was really going on! Knives realized then that having them near him might, in the short term anyway, be safer for them than not; _definitely _more healthy than not. He was disgusted that his 'Shadow' felt the need to drag others into their struggle.

Immediately, Knives went back for them, to keep them safe from his shadow, forever trailing him. They didn't know who he really was, and he wasn't about to tell them. There was no point in getting them mixed up in something they would not understand nor be able to accept. Most likely it would scare them to death to know they were being stalked, and their lives were in danger. Vash had made it impossible to just let them go upon their merry way now; Knives couldn't risk his brother taking them. He only had hints that his brother was a perverted psychopath, and the growing rumors that made their way to his door, especially when the obsessed psychopath named Legato confirmed them…so he really didn't know how much was the truth, and how much was falsified. What he did know was that Vash could not be trusted.

Rubbing his cheek to check out the stubble, all thoughts of sleep were banished now that he was fully awake and could hear someone moving around outside. Turning, he moved over to his little table. Knives picked up his hairbrush, dipped it in the little water basin he kept for washing his face, and started slicking back his white-blond hair. It would stick up on its own as it dried, he kept it short for that reason, but on occasions he added the styling tonic to it, like he did today, feeling it become sticky between his fingers as he massaged it in. The hair complete, he brushed his teeth. Picking up his shaving kit, he crossed back over to the small mirror and placed it on the small ledge under the mirror. Using a bit of water to moisten the cake of soap in the lathering cup, he worked the little brush in circles until the cup foamed. It was his morning routine, placing the lathered brush to his face, working it around his chin and neck and over his lip before cleaning it in the basin and taking up his razor.

Knives looked down at it, swallowed at the length of the unguarded blade. It reminded him of his powers, those powers Legato had so maliciously drawn out of him a year before. It was a power that resided under the surface of his left arm at all times, secret, hidden, the proof that he was not a human being, but a plant. He could still hear that voice ringing in his head. Even giving his head a shake couldn't dislodge the shocking memory of the power that had dropped him to his knees as he tried to fight it the whole way even as the crazy blue-haired man's voice cackled in delight, "See what you can do Master! Don't you remember? This is the power that only you and your brother share."

He dropped the razor into the water with a splash as his eyes went wide with the memory. Knives felt his body quivering as he looked down at his left arm. It appeared normal now. He didn't even know how Legato made it work… But he had seen it, had cut down those two insurance agents… _No, I didn't do it; I was forced into killing those men…_ Knives snatched the razor from the basin and shaved his face, blocking his memory of the incident until he was finished, towel-dried and ready to dress.

Once clothed, he stuck his head out and passed on the order that he wanted to see the doctor. It wasn't long before Conrad arrived. Stepping through the entrance, the doctor gave Knives a concerned look. However, all he said was, "Your shirt's inside out."

Knives looked down in confusion. _No wonder it didn't want to button up right…_ He pulled his shirt off, catching a glimpse of a scarred muscular back and shoulders in his mirror. Time had not been fair to his physique. He was still strong, but his marred skin carried the scars from various fights and battles of recent years. The nastiest looking scars he had collected very recently.

Conrad looked at them with concern, there appeared to be a new one that grazed his left shoulder down to his elbow. "Were you injured yesterday?"

Shaking his head, Knives shrugged off the doctor's trepidation "I'm fine. I merely cut my arm on a window I was pushed through. It's healing well." He pulled his light green shirt back on and re-buttoned it before revealing the true purpose for summoning the doctor. "Are the women still here?"

"Yes, Miss Meryl is up already, she's in the shower tent at present. Miss Milly however is still asleep from what I can tell." He frowned, "What's the purpose for bringing them here? You've been on your guard lately, have you seen Bluesummers again?"

Knives shook his head, finding a belt amongst his belongings and putting it through the loops of his jeans. "No… Vash."

The doctor was visibly shaken, "Are you sure? How close is he?"

"I received a telegram from him yesterday during the confusion. He knows about the women. And I felt him lurking nearby last night." He frowned, his eyebrows knotted in frustration. "He's trying to make sure I don't forget about what happened to the last two agents; what happened with Legato… And he's forcing me to keep them by me to protect them, even though I am the one who they should be afraid of." Knives balled his hands into fists, "Damn it! He's playing me like an old deck of cards!"

"I suppose it's only fair…" William murmured. Knives cast daggers at him from the corner of his eye. The doctor was a no-nonsense type; he knew what happened between Vash and Knives in the past. He was the only one who knew what they were and what had occurred… all but for the hundred years he lay dormant in cold sleep. Those were the years when the brothers separated and when Knives found the remains of the SEEDS ship where a few hundred people still slept unharmed. Conrad's memories of the past fifty years were scattered, Knives placed him back into the pod from time to time, keeping him "fresh" was Knives' nice little turn of phrase for it… But back then Knives was evil. Now he was the confused child William Conrad first met on the SEEDS ship all those years ago.

Bill wanted to keep it that way. "You know it, whether or not you remember it, you did horrible things to Vash as well…"

"I know!" Knives spat, throwing his fist into the mirror. It shattered into a thousand pieces and Conrad jumped back. Blood trickled over Knives' wounded fist and the mirror's frame fell to the dirt floor. Knives turned, "You don't forget to remind me at every possible instance! I am _not_ the man you make me out to be… I have tried to make up for my sins but every time I turn around, _he's_ there… Like he's trying to bring back something that is buried, some monster that can destroy a planet. But why? Tell me that _Good_ Doctor… Why should this man you say wouldn't hurt a fly turn on his own brother?"

The doctor swallowed, "I'm sorry Knives… I just have to be sure." Collecting himself from the shock of Knives' sudden violence against the mirror he added, "I can't answer that question, not unless I could examine him. And I doubt even then, because I can't even figure out what's wrong with you." He shook his head and went over Knives' table. _Not that I would fix it even if I knew how…_ Conrad mused as he took the basin with the dirty water in it and dumped it outside the tent before returning; refilling it with fresh water from a pitcher, then dipped a washcloth into it. _But it is like they switched personalities. If only the both of them could go back to being Rem's little angels. Rem, I'm trying my best, but I am only human." _Conrad forced himself not to smile at the irony of that thought lest Knives see and inquire as to what he was thinking. Letting go of the past, he turned to the older twin and said, "Let me clean your wound."

"Don't worry about it," Knives rubbed his good hand over his fist, smearing the blood over it, "The scratches are gone already." There were slight pink scars under the blood, but they were closed. The doctor tossed him the wet cloth.

"Wipe off the blood at least so you don't scare our visitors when you come out for breakfast." With a sigh, Conrad turned and lifted the tent flap. "Knives… I know you mean well, but we can't keep running from him forever. The girls being here is testimony to that. _He_ wants you to face him." He ducked out of the tent and was gone.

Knives stared down at the blood on the washcloth, then over to the shattered mirror. These were only small proofs of what he was before, and the violence bothered him. With a deep breath, he threw the bloodied cloth into the basin and followed the doctor into the hot sunshine.

The morning was crisp and clear, the day would be another scorcher, the proof of that hung off the rear-view mirror of one of the trucks: the thermometer already read eighty-five degrees. Little birds chirped and flew overhead in a flock toward the city and Wolfwood glanced up at them, brushing the sweat from his brow. He was hot already; the second tent packed as per his master's instructions and there were still a dozen more to go when their occupants had left. Shaking his head, he eyed his master's tent, watching him slip out into the sunshine and disappear on one of his hour-long sabbaticals into the hills nearby.

Nicholas wasn't sure what his master did up there every morning, but it was like clockwork. Perhaps he just wanted to perform his daily constitutional alone… He smiled to himself. The other priests would have had his hide years ago if they even knew half of the jokes he and Livio shared about Knives, their "savior" or whatever they were calling him nowadays.

But he and Livio where the ones who found him in Five Sands; they were his first followers, the ones who introduced the other priests to their "savior" as it were… Nicholas smiled faintly to himself, for it _was_ Knives who saved him from the horrible fate that would have awaited him. Livio had already gone through the next step of his "enhancements" having joined the group a year before.

Even now as he looked over to Livio, his friend still hadn't broken a sweat! Nicholas shuddered, not for a million years would he want the kind of _enhancements_ Livio had to make this feat possible. He was still uncomfortable looking twenty-eight when he was a good ten years younger… That big girl was probably older than him he mused, watching her as she lifted the tent flap a bit to peek out at the camp, light eyes a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

Nicholas was surprised "Vash" had allowed the outsiders to stay. Outsiders who were women, for God's sake! It totally flouted the 'no-women' rule of their order. Surprise upon surprise! Then there was the fact that after what happened to the other insurance agents Knives wanted them anywhere near him. But then again, perhaps it was about time he found comfort in the opposite sex.

Wolfwood eyed the big girl, wearing rumpled clothes, which were most likely the same shirt and pants she wore the day before. Her hair was a mess around her face, although with how long it was, it didn't look nearly as bad as the bird's nest her smaller friend had walked past him with a half hour before. _Well, whatever suits Knives' fancy,_ he thought humorously.

"Hey Big Girl!"

Milly startled, jumped back into the shadows of the tent before emerging back into the light, one hand still on the tent flap. Her blue eyes swept around the compound until they spotted him. When her gaze landed on him, he felt his heart do an unfamiliar kind of beat within his chest, but he didn't spare a thought on it. Instead a crooked smile lifted his lips as he grinned back at her.

"Oh hi Mr. Priest, I didn't see you there," she called back to him, waving as she did so. "Do you know perhaps where Meryl went?"

Chuckling now, he hitched a thumb in the direction of the shower tent. "She went in there about a half hour ago. And I told you to call me Nicholas, remember?"

"Oh yes, sorry… Meryl should be almost finished then," Milly smiled brightly and retreated into her tent. Wolfwood kept an eye on it for a moment wondering about the big girl. She certainly was a pretty thing. Of course her partner was nothing to sneeze at either. They were probably told that all the time he imagined. Guys practically banging down their doors for dates. He was thoroughly surprised they weren't married to some professional types rather than trudging around the Outer looking for outlaws. Odd line of work that. It was beyond curious that these two should have taken the place of the last two men who worked for Bernadelli. Although, come to think of it they looked similar, the same tall blond, the same dark shorter man, all business… Nicholas scratched the few hairs sprouting on his chin. Perhaps their boss thought using a similar approach might work with Vash this time.

There was a grunt behind him and Wolfwood glanced over his shoulder. "Livio!" He rolled his eyes; the big guy had ten of the twelve-foot poles in his arms, carrying them like firewood and was reaching for an eleventh. "You want those girls to see you? They'll think you're a monster…" Nicholas waved him over to the back of the truck and unloaded each of the fifty-pound poles from his friend's arms.

Livio glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, "I _am_ a monster."

"Don't be so hard on yourself…" Wolfwood frowned, thumping Livio in the arm with a fist. It was like thumping metal… He grimaced, but ignored the pain and said, "Yeah, okay, but _they_ don't know that and this is your first time to actually _talk_ to girls since we joined up with Spikey." He waved a hand in the direction of the tent, and Livio followed his finger, staring at something.

The priest froze and then frowned, "She's watching us, isn't she?"

The big guy nodded once, very slowly. Wolfwood closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "What's she doing?"

"Just staring with her mouth open," Livio replied. He took his eyes off of Milly and looked down at Wolfwood, "Sorry Nick."

"I'll cover for you, somehow…" Spinning on the sole of his shoe, he put on a hundred double dollar smile and threw an arm up in the air to wave energetically at Milly. "You ready for breakfast, Big Girl?"

Milly opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Mr. Livio had held probably five hundred pounds in his arms just a moment ago and it didn't even faze him! He was a tall man, muscular but didn't look at all _that_ strong. Come to think of it, he actually looked kind of undernourished from what she could tell of his gaunt face and fingers. Nicholas, on the other hand, was muscular with broad shoulders that strained at the confines of his suit jacket, although he too was slender, at least he acted like the long poles weighed something… She closed her mouth as she watched the priest walk her way.

When they had first met, she had thought him handsome, but now, in the daylight, he was gosh-darned handsome, with a deep tan and dark gray eyes that almost looked black at moments. Mr. Wolfwood sure had a nice smile although she kept in mind that he was a _priest_ and that although he was mighty fine-looking, dang near gorgeous, he was still a man of God and therefore, off limits. But that choker around his throat and that shirt, halfway unbuttoned down his chest showing off that tanned chest, told her that he wasn't exactly the kind of priest one would find hanging out at the local small town church. Not the church in her town anyway!

At the moment however, her eyes kept going over his shoulder to Livio. His hair was so light; it was almost a strange shade of silver, even though she knew he couldn't be all that old. And now, in the daytime she saw his eyes were a yellow-brown color. He would nervously glance up at her from time to time as he started folding up the tarp.

"Did you sleep well?" Wolfwood said, suddenly standing in front of her.

Milly squeaked, "Yes!" Then she swallowed and scratched the back of her neck under her collar. "He's really strong isn't he?"

"Yeah…" Wolfwood trailed off, trying to figure out how to cover his friend's error. Normally it didn't matter since everyone in camp knew his capabilities. This time he was careless. "He's not dangerous, if you're worried. He's really…" Nicholas looked up into his bangs knowing he couldn't tell the girl that Livio really _was_ dangerous if his other personality came out. But since they had been traveling with the doctor the hypnosis had kept him fairly stable. Razlo hadn't made an appearance in well over six months. "He's really a kind guy," he finished, thinking at least he'd _try_ setting Livio up with the girl if she was interested. For some strange reason, that thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

"That's nice to hear," Milly said, a smile coming to her lips finally. She blinked and glanced over at rows of tents that led to where the shower tent was located. Meryl was coming from that way, strolling along as she absently patted her hair with the towel slung around her neck. "Good morning Meryl!"

Meryl glanced up at her, slightly surprised, then nodded and waved. Her lavender gray eyes turned to examine Wolfwood. In a low voice she greeted him, "Hello Mr. Wolfwood."

"Hello Miss Meryl," he replied kindly. Earlier that morning, he'd called her 'Little Girl' and got an evil look cast at him before she corrected him. Apparently being short was a sore spot with her. Although, as he glanced at Milly, it didn't seem to bother her when he called her 'Big Girl'. But it was a bit unkind of him, he realized… "Are you and Miss Milly going to join us at the mess tent shortly? I believe breakfast is in a little less than a half hour."

Milly flushed when Wolfwood called her by her name. She kinda liked it when he called her Big Girl… Which was strange because normally she _hated_ being tall. It was all in how it was said, she decided. And the way he said it, made her feel special and unique, an unusual feeling for her. Alas, somehow it didn't matter because _this guy_ was taller than her for a change! "You're very kind, but I don't think Mr. Vash would want to be disturbed…"

"You wouldn't disturb me at all," Knives said as he came around the side of their tent. Taken aback, Meryl pulled yesterday's dirty clothes in her arms up tight to her body. Milly let out a small gasp and even Wolfwood was taken off-guard by his master's sudden appearance. He'd only been gone fifteen minutes rather than the usual hour! Something must really be up this time! "In fact, I was just coming to see if you two would join me. We're having omelets since your toma were so gracious so supply us with the eggs…"

"Oh my goodness!" Meryl put her hand to her mouth, "I forgot all about them!"

Knives chuckled deep within his throat. It was a musical sound that Meryl doubted she'd ever tire of hearing. It was comforting, like when her father laughed when she modeled for him a new dress. But the outlaw was a completely different sort, so it was odd hearing the sound from him. He smiled sincerely and nodded to Livio, "My associate here is adept at the creatures, he took care of them for you last night and this morning. Do not worry, they are just fine."

"He's probably right Meryl," Milly said nodding to herself, "They wouldn't have laid eggs if they weren't happy…" She looked at Livio, "Thank you Mr. Livio."

Livio lifted his head from the truck where he was packing away the tarp. "You're welcome," he said, as he shyly looked at her through his long bangs.

"Now," Knives continued, "Shall we go to breakfast?" He waved a hand toward the mess tent. The girls followed after him, although Milly stopped after just a few steps.

"What about Nicholas and…"

"I'm sorry, but they have work to do," Knives watched her reaction with interest.

"Oh," came Milly's disappointed reply. "Maybe next time?"

"Perhaps," he responded, catching the hopeful expression return to her face.

"We've got lots of work to do anyway," Meryl said, elbowing Milly's side. "You said you'd answer our questions, correct, Mr. Vash?"

Knives nodded, "Of course, of course… But first we eat. I can't think on an empty stomach."

* * *

Milly sat with her chin on her hand, her elbow on the long picnic table in the mess tent, staring out the door watching at the priests as they passed by the opening from time to time. She was experiencing strange symptoms since she and Meryl had arrived here. Her heart would start to pound any time she saw Wolfwood and Livio, but then would settle back to normal as they would disappear past the opening without ever stopping in for breakfast. Feeling at odds with herself, Milly lifted her head to look over her shoulder toward the other end of the table. Meryl and Mr. Vash were sitting across from each other, a pot of coffee between them. They were anywhere on their third, or thirteenth, cups at _least_; she had stopped counting after the chef brought Meryl her own bowls of sugar and cream.

At first, she too had sat down at that end of the table with the other two, listening as Mr. Vash asked Meryl question after question about her own life. Meryl, although reluctant at first, seemed to forget the fact that he still had not been forthcoming with answers to any of her questions. He countered every question with a question of his own. Milly had a feeling if Meryl had given him one of those "what's your favorite" lists, he could have found a way around answering those too… Although even from here she could sense Meryl's frustration level going up, she also knew that her partner wasn't one to give up easily. Milly shook her head, the man was not going to get away with his evasions for long, she could see the fire of determination in Meryl's eyes. She may be telling him all about their mission, their goals to curb the damage caused by Vash, and their adventures in the journey to find him; but all along the way she was plotting and scheming to get him to open up to her.

Earlier, Milly stood up with the excuse she had to go to the bathroom, and wandered out for a few minutes, hoping to see Wolfwood or Livio, or either one would be fine with her. It was hard to search for someone and not be obvious about doing just that. For some reason she didn't want anyone to know she was interested in the two men, that would be... embarrassing. She tried to tell herself it was because they were the only ones she knew in the camp; thus the only ones she could talk to. But even she couldn't convince herself of that with full conviction. So, appearing to be out for a fresh breath of morning air, she moved about a bit, but since she didn't spot either man anywhere in the compound she decided to return to the mess tent.

She couldn't help but emit a soft sigh upon seeing Meryl and Vash in a conversation that resembled a sparring match more than a discussion between seemingly civilized, mature adults, so she took up a position at the other end; not wanting to intrude while Meryl worked her own brand of magic. She could tell that Meryl had succeeded somewhat in getting Vash to open up to her as he was actually answering some of her questions beyond a mere 'no' or 'yes'. Go Meryl. Milly rolled her eyes. Meryl was rather tenacious at times so she wasn't worried about their mission in the least. If only she weren't so bored.

Meryl looked up, profoundly relieved to see Milly reenter the tent. She really wished Milly would stay put and not wander about as if they were at some kind of school picnic. Milly was so innocent and Meryl was concerned that some of these more dubious-looking fellows might take advantage of her ingenuous and naive friend, and it didn't matter if they were priests or not! The last thing she needed to do right now was to worry about her friend in this odd camp. Who knew what kind of people traveled with Vash the Stampede? There was nothing in any of the reports she had read that mentioned a group, so all these traveling companions and arrangements were all outside of Meryl's understanding and it bothered her to no end. The first thing she and Milly would do after this discussion would be to start collecting information would be to compile and prepare it to be sent back in the next report to the home office. At the moment though, she was engaged in an interesting and unexpected game involving the cut and thrust of wits about who could get more out of the other. Meryl had deliberately spilled information about her life and work (to a certain point) hoping that would help soften him up when she turned the tables on him.

What she was depending on Milly for was her sharp ears. The taller woman could listen and make note of all of the conversation that was going on between her and Vash and then tell her later what she got out of it. Milly was quite intuitive and sensitive to moods, emotions and deep matters of the heart. Despite what people thought, those were always important things when dealing with people. Milly brought in a much needed element to the investigation that Meryl simply had a hard time considering. Not only that, it made Milly happy that she had a talent that Meryl insisted was important and crucial to their studies.

At the moment though Milly was having trouble paying attention, and that went doubly when her eyes spotted the objects of her interest out of the corner of her eye. Sitting up from her slouch, she turned her head to watch them tearing down the tent right across from the mess tent. Oh lucky day! She pinned her eyes on them, especially keeping an eye on Livio to see if he would do something amazing again. If pressed, she would have to admit that she was hoping to see something spectacular happen. However, he was pretty spectacular in and of himself even without doing any of those feats of strength.

Disappointingly, Livio, for now, wasn't doing anything special. All he did was pull up stakes, loosen and untie ropes, take down poles, stack the poles in the truck, fold up the tarp and ropes, and pack those away… Start on the next tent. Nicholas noticed her at one point and waved, and even made a face causing her to giggle, which drew stares from Mr. Vash and Meryl. Milly realized she hadn't been listening again and focused her attention on the job at hand. _No wonder Meryl said we weren't out here to go boyfriend hunting!_ Inwardly she cringed but twiddled fingers at her friend in acknowledgement of Meryl's baffled stare before the raven-haired agent returned to her conversation. _Whew, that was close, _thought Milly as she dropped her chin back on her hand, vaguely aware of the voices once again playing tug of war in a verbal power struggle. She should make an attempt to pay attention. Eyes on the working men, she tilted her head to catch the flow of the conversation between Knives and Meryl.

"Do you know who is after you?" Meryl asked, stirring her coffee slowly, refusing to look up at the handsome blond sitting across from her. She didn't see the piercing look he gave her upon that remark. There was a pause but she kept her eyes on the business of stirring, the metal spoon making a musical tinkle against the sides of the mug.

"There are any number of people after me at any given time." Inwardly Knives cringed, knowing that it wouldn't satisfy this curious little female at all. He had to remind himself that she knew absolutely nothing about his past or his brother.

He began describing, in edited form, some of the adventures he had from the bounty hunters, hooligans and even honest town's people who had come after him in the past. However, he noticed, with mounting irritation, she was keeping her eyes fixed on the coffee cup in front of her, not bothering to look up. His eyebrow lifted. Oh, she was going to play that game was she?

Through the course of the conversation so far, it seemed to Meryl that Vash wanted her to keep looking at him. _Probably thinks I will be so mesmerized by his good looks that I won't be able to keep an intelligent thought in my head_ Meryl thought sourly.

She could feel his eyes resting on the top of her head though and a strange thrill went zinging up her spine leaving goose bumps in its wake. It was exciting and scary at the same time. She wanted it to stop – but – she also wanted it to continue. She wanted to get away from him; she wanted to be as close as she could. Truth be told, she didn't know what she wanted but something odd was definitely going on between them and she wondered if it was just her perception of if he too felt anything. _No, you idiot! Don't be ridiculous! He can have any woman he wants just by crooking a finger at them and they will come running. You certainly are no prize so stop fantasizing about something that is never going to happen! _In a stern mental voice she chided herself but when that didn't work, she tried wheedling. That failed also. The truth of the matter was that whether she wanted to admit it or not, his presence was electrifying and she wouldn't be surprised if the very air molecules between them were tingling and sparking.

She stopped listening to what he was saying, which wasn't really much of anything, and began to pay attention to the timber and sensuous undercurrent in his voice. It was just as bad as looking at him! Was everything about him so seductive even when he wasn't trying to be? It was obvious that he didn't think much of women falling all over themselves just to get his favor. Meryl vowed that she would not be one of those drooling women either. This was a job, dammit! _Must be the fact I haven't been around many guys like this besides my father. That's it; imagine he's my father…_ Meryl glanced up at Mr. Vash and found that trick didn't work either. _How in the world can Milly stay so calm around men? Oh yeah… brothers._ _Lucky Milly!_ Meryl's eyes went straight back to the coffee cup.

Knives knew she had stopped listening to him and quite frankly, he didn't blame her since he had just been giving her statistics on size of towns they had been through, how long it took to tear down and raise camp, how much food and water were needed for the amount of people they had in their caravan. He would have stopped listening too if he had been her. Instead he studied the lowered dark head of the woman sitting across from him. Her hair was such a glossy black it was throwing off blue-purple highlights when the light hit it. He stared, trying to think of the name of that particular color, periwinkle? He shrugged, no matter, whatever it was, it was... it was... remarkable. He looked down at the liquid in his cup with a small frown while trying to think of how to express what he was sensing. It was beyond remarkable, a word that he was afraid of admitting, even to himself but it was eye-catching, as she was.

Looking up again, he stared at the purple-blue shimmer of her smooth hair, and was almost overcome with a desire to reach out and run his fingers through it to, knowing it would be soft as kitten fur. Even just gazing at it he knew a single strand of it would be a silky caress against the tips of his fingers. It was tempting but he restrained his hand from reaching across the small gap that separated them. Instead he grasped his mug of coffee with a tight grip so he didn't do just that and reveal his interest. No wait, weakness, not interest, definitely a weakness.

His lips turned down at the corners as he gave her an undecided stare. The woman was unexpectedly enticing and she wasn't even trying to be! Maybe that is what was drawing his attention to her. He could tell by the flush of her skin, her parted lips, and the shine in her eyes (when she did look at him) that she found him attractive but she wasn't acting like some simpering female who would swoon into his arms with just a look. As that image took hold he let himself imagine what it would be like to actually embrace her. Incredibly, he felt his face flush along with other strange and heated reactions that were totally unexpected. He was definitely getting uncomfortable and shifted in his seat.

To distract himself, he began asking her questions again about her future plans.

"Well, I think that depends on you, wouldn't you say?" She answered without looking up. He frowned again, he knew her refusal to acknowledge him was a ploy but knowing that didn't help, in fact it made it worse. It was definitely getting on his nerves. Trying to make a dent in her projected armor by getting a rise out of her, he began insinuate that she, and the other woman, were not cut out for all the hardships of the life he led and how dangerous it was for cultured women such as them. He lifted up his cup to hide the grin on his face.

Meryl knew he was trying to get her angry but she ignored his attempt to lead her down that path. She didn't get angry in reaction just because someone else wanted her to! Countering his trick, she just grunted as if completely uninterested in what he had to say. It sure wouldn't do to let him know that she could listen to him speak for hours on end! She turned her cup around in place as if fascinated by the ripples it caused in the mug. She still refused to look up at him as he spoke, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on her.

To keep him talking she asked in a bored tone as if she couldn't care less but she was only asking in order to make conversation, "So where are you headed next?"

Vash saw the struggle going on in Meryl and gave himself a mental high five as he lowered the coffee cup from his lips. _Now I have your attention_! And the triumph flashing through him was an uncharacteristic reaction but he wasn't about to stop and analyze it. He knew he had an affect on women, he had seen it happen many times before although he had never done anything to deliberately garner those attentions. Now however, he found that, in the worst way, he wanted to disturb the short girl's business-like demeanor. He was having an effect on her and now he was interested in seeing her squirm, even if just a little bit.

"We're on our way to get back on the pilgrimage trail again…" He said casually, keeping an eye on her while at the same time careful to keep his amusement hidden.

"Which _is_?" She played with the rim of her coffee cup and shot a glance over at the sugar. It was a strong brew, stronger than what she was used to. With a firm resolve she decided she had enough sugar and to put more in would be a sign of weakness. In Meryl's warped little universe, her self-denial was seen as a good thing and right now she needed to feel strong, even if it was only a pretense of strength. It was at times such as this when Meryl would voice comments like that and Milly couldn't help but roll her eyes at one of many of her smaller partner's idiosyncrasies. Just as Meryl was beginning to feel vaguely victorious she was surprised to see a lean, long arm reach by her. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows because of the heat, and he leaned so close that she could see the play of muscles under the skin as he grabbed a hold of the sugar bowl. With wide eyes she watched, but didn't say a word as he placed it next to her cup.

"I have observed that you like it sweet. This coffee does seem to be too strong for most people and today, it is especially stout."

At that remark Meryl couldn't help herself and looked up with eyes narrowed in suspicion at the tone of his voice that seemed to be implying a deeper meaning than what was being said.

Ignoring his last comment and with a slight pucker forming between her brows, she repeated her previous question, "Which is?"

"You don't give up easy do you?"

Meryl just gave him a look that said, 'don't mess with me Mister.'

Knives smiled, he enjoyed toying with the little woman and this was the most fun he had had in quite some time. Her eyes turned a pleasant shade of violet when she was heated. "May City, then up to Jeneora Rock." It was also amusing to see the glazed look pass over her eyes as she tried to make sense of that and then exhaling out a huff of air in irritation when she couldn't.

"Okay, I give. Why Jeneora Rock?"

"The church there," a new voice broke in. Meryl looked up. A very old gentleman in a wheelchair came through the opening flap of the mess tent door. The same one who had glared at them in such a hostile manner the night before. Meryl felt the hairs go up on the back of her neck for no apparent reason, the man was in a wheelchair, for Pete's sake, what could he possibly do to her? If he came wheeling after her she could easily elude and outrun him! Still, there was something about him that gave her pause and she looked up to catch Milly's eye and saw the same apprehensive and mistrustful look on her face as well. Meryl knew for sure that she wouldn't ever be comfortable in this man's presence.

"Our church of the Eye of Michael resides at the top of Jeneora Rock, it was founded over a hundred years ago."

Knives turned and extended a hand to the elderly man. "This is Chapel, the lead priest on this pilgrimage." He nodded to Meryl, "This is Meryl Stryfe of Bernadelli Brother's Group," he watched Chapel's eyebrow raise slightly, then pointed to Milly, "and her partner Miss Milly Thompson."

Meryl snapped her eyes back to Vash. He didn't even know what he had just said. Not many would know this, but he used the name of the insurance group for the first several years before it was changed to what was in use today. Another little mysterious clue to file away for another time.

"Thompson?" Chapel's shaggy eyebrows creased, "You related to the Thompsons in Little America?"

Milly didn't like the way his eyes landed and hooked onto her. They were so pale, as if leached of any color like old bones baking under the searing heat of the twin suns. She gulped and looked over to Meryl who was giving her an encouraging smile and nod as if to communicate her support and reassurance to her blond friend.

Turning to answer the man, Milly nodded back to him, "My big, big brother and big, big sister," she said, although after she said it, her heart started to pound. She _did not_ like this man and she could see that Meryl didn't like him either. Something inside of her was screaming to keep her distance, or better yet, to turn and run for it. There was a palpable air of danger that clung to him, like the stink of old bones and musty, cobweb-filled basements. His clear eyes shimmered but not in a friendly manner, but like a mesmerizing kaleidoscope trying to trap her in his cold gaze. It gave her the creeps, much more so than Mr. Vash. She tried to smile when a thought suddenly came to her rescue and it was with relief that she turned away from the darkness that shrouded the man to look at Vash, "Oh I remember now, Clive found you in July City, didn't he Mr. Vash?"

Knives' eyes went wide with surprise. Even he had not made the connection since Thompson was such a common name. Without a thought he glanced over to the smaller of the two insurance girls and caught Meryl's eye. She had known of course, but from her stiff posture he could tell that she didn't like the fact that Chapel knew anything about Milly that he didn't need to know. He watched as she bit her lip and then looked away, making an effort to put on a poker face. Thank heaven he had stopped himself before he took a step to move over to her side. It would not do to show any preference one way or the other toward the women, especially in front of this man.

Even though the group worshipped him because he was a plant, the priest, Chapel, was a force to be reckoned with, besides being dangerous. Knives wouldn't mind in the least if the man decided to leave the entourage but, unfortunately, he came with the group. He seemed to know more about the plant than Knives knew about himself at times. Even more than Conrad. And that alone was cause for worry, even if there weren't other reasons.

Knives knew he needed to be careful in whatever he said, especially with Chapel hunched in his chair like a hungry buzzard, as if it was his life's mission to catch every word that came from the plant's mouth. Perhaps Knives had grown used to the church worshipping him, because they were careful not to be extravagant to show it since they all knew he hated that, but at moments like these he had to remember that listened and wrote down every word he uttered… "I owe your brother my thanks," he said slowly at last. "I expect he is doing well after I left?"

Milly was a touch confused at the formality with which Mr. Vash was addressing her after the friendly manner before scary guy appeared. She cast a quick look at Meryl who looked just as puzzled as she felt, before replying.

"Yeah, he and Wendy had to move out of town shortly after because of it, but they're actually much better now," Milly added when Vash's face dropped slightly, "They moved to Five Rivers and Wendy found a husband and has three children now, and Clive works at the Bernadelli office in Augusta." She smiled, until she felt the eyes of Chapel on her again, freezing any warmth from her smile until it faded under gaze of his cool regard.

Meryl looked up at her friend and caught Milly's frightened eye. They both had felt it. They meant no more than an ant under his shoe and should they get in the way of his plans, whatever they may be, the two women would be quickly and efficiently dealt with, without feeling, without remorse.

"So…um…" Milly began again, her words coming thickly over her tongue.

"Yes," Meryl cut in, saving her friend from having to come up with anything more, "We have to get to work, lots of paperwork needs to be done now that we've found you Mr. Vash." She stood and was instantly next to Milly who also stood and clung to her friend's arm in a heartbeat. "Nice meeting you Chapel, Sir. Perhaps we'll talk again during this trip…" Inwardly Meryl was screaming '_not if I can help it'!_

Vash nodded to her and the insurance girls left instantly, leaving Chapel and the gunman alone. Chapel's brows creased into a scowl, even darker than normal. "Master Knives… Tell me these women are merely a minor irritation and I'll be delighted to have them taken away…"

Knives knew exactly what that meant and surged to his feet, the bench falling backwards with a loud clatter. "You will do no such thing! Those women are _my _guests and I'll have you respect them and treat them as such!" He felt something deep inside of him boil, like his powers were stirring again, and it took him a few moments to realize that, instinctively, his powers were rising to defend or kill. He couldn't allow the passion of hate or anger to control him again. He waited for the feeling to fade before continuing. _No, I can't kill him…_

Finally, when he felt it was safe to speak, "They are as good as dead if my brother should lay hands on them. For now they travel with us. You and your men are to steer clear of them or face my wrath."

Chapel bowed his head slightly, his eyes never wavering in their cold stare on Knives' form. "Yes Master, of course. Does that go for all of my men? Nicholas and Livio seem to have grown attached to the tall one."

"Let them do as they please, I trust them, unlike you and the others." Knives waved his hand, "Now leave me."

"Very well," Chapel replied coldly. He left, the attendant behind him, wheeled him out. Once they were gone, Knives bent down to right the bench before sitting hard down onto it again and releasing a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, he realized all too late that he would be assigning his two bodyguards double duty very soon. There was much to be done and time was of the essence. The priests he could shake off at Jeneora Rock, and the girls shortly after, providing he also elude his brother and then sneak them away to safety. Knives sighed again and finished his coffee. There was so much to be done.


	17. CH 16 Sisters in Arms

_Thanks again to our patient reviewers, Erin Sasaki, Aine of Knockaine, mouse, and hope-is-4ever!! Once again your patience has been rewarded! And as a special gift for Thanksgiving – two chapters for the price of one! We hope you enjoy both Ch. 15 and Ch. 16 – things finally get going!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it), and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 16**

**Sisters in Arms**

**Stardate: 09-12-0110-16:00**

A cool wind started to blow around noon and by early evening it was brisk enough to stir up dust devils and send people running for a light coat. The little town was buzzing with activity, however, as the long Cadillac pulled up to the curb. The windows were tinted so passersby couldn't see the occupants but they knew it had to be someone rich to own such a vehicle. From the driver's side a woman in white got out and moved around to open the door to the other side. A tall, lanky man stepped out and adjusted the collar on his red coat.

Two women stopped to gape as they walked out of the general store. An old man in a rocking chair with a black cat on his lap choked on his pipe. A few children playing stopped dead in their tracks, their ball rolling out into the street unattended. Windows slammed shut on the second stories, a toma screeched as its owner disappeared into one of the stores. A tumbleweed rolled down the street.

Everyone's eyes were on this tall stranger. His hair was golden blond; he wore a long red coat that flapped in the wind as if it were made of liquid rather than leather. On his face perched sunglasses with red lenses. At his side, barely out of sight, was the handle of a black gun. People swallowed. This was not an ordinary stranger… This was… It _had_ to be… Vash the Stampede!

Suddenly one of the two women fainted. Her friend rushed to help her up, but not before the Humanoid Typhoon to arrived to assist her. He came to her side and grabbed up the fainted friend in an instant. He smiled, his sunglasses tilting down his nose slightly. "Why, hello there, my dear girl. It seems you and your friend are in some need of assistance?" The unconscious girl snapped awake suddenly to find herself in Vash's arms. She screamed.

His hand was instantly over her mouth. "Is that any way to treat a kind Samaritan?" She swallowed and slowly shook her head. "That's what I thought. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to let up my hand now, will you be so kind to not scream again?" This time she nodded and he slowly let loose his hand over her mouth. When he found her to be silent, he used his free hand to push his sunglasses back up his nose. He didn't let the girl go, however, she had an enticing scent and he liked the feel of the curve of her hip under his fingers. "Now, isn't that better?"

The girls nodded slowly, although the one he didn't have a hold of seemed to be ready to bolt at any time. "I'm sorry, Sir, thanks for your help but we really need to get going…"

"Oh? So soon?" Vash said, a pout forming on his lips. He caught the girl by her wrist and pulled her over to him. He swung his hand over her shoulder, his fingers resting dangerously close to her softly padded chest. She squirmed as he lowered his nose down toward her face. "And just as we were about to get acquainted."

"Master," a voice cut in suddenly behind them. Vash rolled his eyes, his head snapped up to look over his shoulder at Elendira.

"Can't you see I'm busy here?"

Crimsonnail's face grew stony. She was used to his womanizing ways by now, but they did have business to attend to. They'd made this special trip upon his request, even though it set them two days behind the Eye of Michael caravan. The route they took would lead them around the valley where the worst gangs were and thus through more populated areas; however, if Knives didn't stay in May City for more than a day, their arrival to Jeneora Rock would be delayed and Legato would win. Need she constantly remind her master that his timing was a bit off? He never drove, he slept in the car while she took the wheel, so of course it wouldn't matter to him how many hours they spent trying to catch up! But she did! She needed her beauty sleep!

"I'll go on ahead and inform the men that you will meet them for dinner this evening." Elendira bit down on her lip as Vash returned to whispering sweet words to the two struggling girls. "Don't be late; the Rodericks are notoriously impatient."

Vash nodded half-heartedly to Crimsonnail. He hated traveling with the transvestite, even now. But she was loyal, rich and had fabulous contacts everywhere. He'd have considered marrying her if she was really a 'she' and not a 'he'. However, now was not the time to be getting worked up over his chosen traveling companion. He had a few hours to kill and two ripe women in his arms that would be more than helpful to…

"What the hell…?" Vash looked down at his empty arms. "Where'd they go?" One moment he was holding them…copping quite a nice feel of the second one and now… Vash slipped his sunglasses off of his face and turned in a circle. The girls were nowhere to be seen. Instead there was a woman in a long brown duster with a cowboy hat on her head. He frowned. "It's been awhile, Dominique. What did you do with my girls?"

Dominique brushed her hair away from her eye patch. "They weren't even of legal age besides being inexperienced. I'd imagine you wouldn't have had any fun with them."

"No? They seemed pretty fun from where I was standing."

A sound and Dominique was standing behind him, her arm wrapped over the back of his shoulder, her hand resting lightly by his throat. The metal of her gun touched his chin with a cold bite. "Men like you are a dime a dozen, I'm afraid. Cheap, no good, worthless sacks of meat. I should kill you where you stand."

"Oh? And why would you do something like that?"

"Because that was what I was assigned to do."

Vash slipped his sunglasses into his coat and looked back at her from over his shoulder, with one cold aqua eye. "I thought we'd already agreed that because of our past that you weren't going to follow Legato's orders any longer."

The Cyclops's lips pushed together. "Or perhaps I should just _because_ of our past, don't you think?"

"You were a pretty good lay being my first," Vash said sardonically. "Did you want breakfast the next morning, is that it?"

A single gunshot rang through the air and Vash was skidding away suddenly. He pulled his gun and aimed it up at Dominique. She held her gun to face him. "You're sick." Dominique lifted her free hand to her eye patch. "Do you think I asked for this? I should have known it was you who caused that explosion that killed my fiancée and robbed me of my eye. But I was blinded by your so-called help! I wanted to see again…" Another jump and Dominique was at Vash's throat.

She didn't have a moment to get away before he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her to the ground. Vash sneered, ripping off her eye patch. "You _can_ see, and much better, I might add, than you were ever able to before. And this is how you repay me?" Before she could get a word out he pressed his lips into a hard possessive kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes went to the onlookers on the street. "But perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere."

Dominique disappeared from his grasp ever so quickly. Vash stumbled and his hands hit the dirt. He looked up at her and sat back on his haunches. With a grin, he put his hands in his lap. "You always knew just what to do to get a rise out of me you know. Always sexy as hell…" Dominique growled, but at the same time her shirt popped open. "Black lingerie was meant to be shared, you know."

"You smartass bastard." Dominique fired another bullet at him but Vash was on his feet and out of harm's way in a second. He laughed and dodged a few more bullets. She wasn't even using her demon's eye at the moment. The Cyclops knew he would still be able to dodge anyway. He'd given her the power and he knew how to avoid being taken into the hypnosis. After a moment she lowered her gun. "I have a message from you from Bluesummers."

"Oh? Didn't just come to see me?" Vash chided. He wiped his chin where she'd just barely grazed it with the last bullet. "I thought we had nothing more to say to one another…"

"I don't know what your dealings are with him, but his message is that the Rodericks are dead. There's no use trying to strike a deal with them."

Vash's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" He chuckled to himself, "Must have gotten to him that they were still slave trading? No worries, I can find someone else to work for me." He ran his tongue over the back of his glove that was smeared with blood. "I suppose my dinner plans have been cancelled however. You don't suppose you would like to be my date instead?"

The smile that formed on Vash's lips was that same innocent smile from years before. Dominique swallowed. She could remember that day so vividly. The explosion at the plant facility took her fiancée in an instant and threw her against the large glass plant globe. Her face smashed into the globe; it broke against the pressure, sending a shard into her eye. She fell, bleeding but alive, to the ground. In a state of near-unconsciousness, Dominique felt someone lift her up and carry her from the building.

When she awoke, her face was bandaged and she lay in a hospital bed with a very handsome man looking down at her. He smiled. It was so beautiful the way his eyes lit up, as if he were genuinely happy to see her alive and well. Even her fiancée had never smiled at her like that. Then his smile faded. "You've lost your eye in the explosion I'm afraid. But we can get you a new one, if you like." Dominique nodded wearily before drifting back into sleep. Months went by before the bandages were removed, but all along this kind man was by her side.

The day before the bandages came off, she made love to him. He was shy and inexperienced, and yet so gentle with her. But the next day he was gone. The doctors seemed to have no recollection of him being there and Dominique realized as she sorted through her memories that he was never there when the physicians or any of the nurses were. But she had a brand new eye, right? They took the bandages off and in horror realized there had been some awful mistake. Her eye wasn't human… Dominique screamed in horror, hoping to rip it from her face, but someone jabbed her with a needle and she fell, paralyzed, to the floor.

It would be months later before she came to accept what he had done to her with the help of this strange blue-haired man named Legato. She would join an army of elite soldiers in order to destroy Vash the Stampede. The Cyclops, as she was known from then on, used her position to track down the man who had given her the eye; only to find out it was _him_… Vash. He'd used an alias with her, but this was the man… And he was to blame for her fiancée's death and her own monstrous condition.

But she still remembered that kind smile from a man who was going to give her a second chance at life. That same expression reached deep within her and all the feelings from years before bubbled back to the surface. "You were toying with me from the very beginning, weren't you?"

Vash's smile never faltered. "You think so?" He got to his feet and started toward her. Dominique didn't move as he grabbed her gently by the waist and directed her off the street. It wasn't as if they had been blocking traffic. After the first shots fired the street had emptied. But Vash was slowly directing her back to the Cadillac. _This is too easy_. "The explosion had been a mistake. As much as I can't stand the filthy humans using my sister, she had died by accident and I had found you instead. Perhaps it was my kind nature surfacing for a moment or perhaps it was the simple fact that I wanted someone to test a theory I'd been working on."

"Theory?" Dominique stopped walking, but he tugged at her again and they came to stand next to the car. He opened the door and gently nudged her to enter. That smile remained on his face. It was almost impossible to resist, even though she did at first. "What are you talking about?"

"Sit down, please," Vash coaxed. Finally she responded and they sat in the back seat of the car. Dominique's hand remained on her gun the entire time, he noticed. "My brother took my arm, and I needed someone to work out a theory I had about merging plants with humans. If it worked one way, then it would work the opposite way as well. Your eye was a plant's originally." He raised his fingers to her face and she shivered. He caressed her demon's eye softly. "But sadly, humans reject plants and it came to this… But it had worked for a time."

"A half-plant woman was so enticing…" Vash murmured into her ear. He pushed closer to Dominique, his free hand settling on her gun. "I'd never felt so turned on before. I hated humans, but perhaps if they could be changed…" Vash nibbled on her ear and Dominique flushed, her finger twitched on the trigger of her gun. "I couldn't stop myself… And here I thought humans were good for nothing like my brother always said they were. However, you taught me to enjoy the fairer sex."

Dominique let her gun go, her hand wrestling to hold onto this man she had accidentally fallen for years before. She wanted him to hold her like he did, talk to her like he used to… She was willing to forget what he'd done to her, and all the pain that resulted. "So why did you leave? Why did you disappear without saying goodbye?"

Vash licked his lips, his smile fading. "Because you were a failure. And in my perfect Eden, there _are_ no failures."

Suddenly, Dominique choked. Her human eye went wide as she looked down at her abdomen. A knife stuck through her stomach… an angel blade! Vash's smile took on a hideous evil gleam and his eyes glowed. His angel arm rippled and feathered as his blade cut through her stomach. "Why…?" Dominique gurgled blood as she slumped forward, dead. Vash withdrew his blade and his angel arm disappeared back into his arm.

He eyed the upholstery. "Because you're too unstable and imperfect." He pushed Dominique backwards and she slumped against the door. Then, caressing her cheek one last time, he got out of the car and closed the door, locking it. "And I've got my sights set on another woman." Vash turned with a smirk and found Elendira dashing back to the car.

"The Rodericks…"

Vash nodded. "I know."

"How?" The Crimsonnail glanced at the car, and then down to Vash's coat. It was red, but there were darker red spots on the flowing leather. "Don't tell me you did both of them… There's no place in this town to get that cleaned…"

"I didn't. Just one nuisance. We're buying a new car," Vash snapped. He unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off; then shaking it, the blood on the fabric rolled off in droplets like rain. When he was satisfied that it was clean again, he slipped it back on. "Get your precious suitcases and let's go. I have another plan."

Elendira growled, but went for the trunk as her master disappeared down the street to the nearest car dealership. "The shipping to get this back to December is going to cost me a fortune… not to mention the re-upholstery…"

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**The Unwanted Bodyguards**

**Stardate: 9-13-0110-6:00**

Someone once told Milly she could sleep through a sandworm attack and an entire city could fall without her ever hearing it. At one time she'd laughed about it. No one could sleep through that. Sure, she had a tendency of keeping busy until the moment before she climbed into bed, usually at a late hour, and fell sound asleep almost instantly; but she wasn't dead to the world. However, during their first trip to the Outer, which was actually a weekend with two other agents as they learned the ins and outs of fieldwork, Milly realized there really might have been something to all of those accusations. She woke up, stretched, and when she opened her eyes, half the hotel they had been staying in was missing. At first Milly thought she was seeing things, or still dreaming, so she wiped the sand from her eyes and looked again, only to see Meryl and the other two agents in a fire-fight with the pair of outlaws they'd come to stop.

After that, Milly became overly aware that her sleeping habits needed improving. However, there really wasn't much she could do. She tried going to bed early, tried making it so she wasn't as dead tired when she went to sleep; but nothing helped. Eventually it was Meryl who realized that Milly would never change and instead found ways to instantly wake Milly up when needed. Usually it was a bowl of pudding under her nose, a bucket of water, or Meryl's favorite, a cold derringer placed against the side of her neck. Milly always got goosebumps and woke in a panic screaming, "It's him! It's the humanoid tycoon!"

Today however, Milly had been allowed the blissful reward of sleeping in. No annoying wakeup calls; however, no pudding in bed either. Instead, it was quiet when Milly realized that she was no longer tired anymore. She lay in her warm bed with her eyes closed just listening to the sounds of the rustling tents and scuffling feet outside. This had been the Eye of Michael's first stop since the day they had left the encampment outside of Valadour. For five days the men traveled by switching drivers every six hours while the girls sat in between the men, uncomfortably talking in hushed tones or not at all. Occasionally they'd fall asleep and awake to find it was darker outside than before, or perhaps it was time for the shift change and a quick meal of stale bread and cheese. On the fifth day they had come upon an area that was slowly changing from rocky desert to rolling hillsides.

Vash the Stampede called for the camp to be set up again and for the good rations to be broken out because in a day they would be heading into outlaw territory. Meryl had asked if they weren't already in the Outer but the gunman merely replied that the worst of the worst lived in the cliffs and canyons ahead and it would be best to rest and be prepared for them. Up to this point, except for the one man she'd seen sneaking around the camp on the first night, Meryl had seen no other living souls. Milly said she saw sandworms though, but then again, she was always worried that sandworms or the humanoid typhoon might show up at any moment. Mr. Vash didn't seem all that bad however, but for some reason she still had this dream that he wasn't really the one to be afraid of; that there was really another man out there that had destroyed July City so many years before.

Slowly rolling over on her side, Milly rubbed the sandman's sand from her eyes, yawned, and then looked over at Meryl's cot. A dark haired priest smiled down at her and Milly mumbled, "Oh good morning, Mr. Nicholas." Then she rolled over again onto her back before shooting straight up in bed and turning to look at him. "Mr. Priest?!" Milly shrieked and then turned to look around the tent only to find the skull-masked Livio sitting on a chair on the other side of her. He had his chin on his hand, and his yellow-gold eyes opened at the sound of her voice. "What, where, how, why, where's MERYL?!"

Realizing suddenly she was only in her pajamas, Milly pulled up her blanket to her chin, her arms in front of her chest, looking back and forth from one man to the other. Wolfwood leaned back on Meryl's cot with a grin. "Good morning to you too," he said before busting out laughing. "I'd have brought you breakfast in bed, but with that reaction I have a feeling it would have wound up on the floor!"

Milly was still gaping at them. "Where… Where's Meryl?"

Livio looked at her calmly. "She's taking a morning walk with our Master." He scratched his cheek under his mask and then turned away as if embarrassed to be talking to her. "We came to get you for breakfast."

The big girl turned to look at Wolfwood again who nodded in agreement. "Sorry to startle you. We've been trying to wake you up for awhile now and just gave up and decided to wait. Spikey… I mean, Vash, said not to come to breakfast without you."

"You mean you get to eat with us for once?" Milly's eyes became brighter and a smile was starting to come to her lips. Even after all of this time traveling with the two, she rarely caught more than glimpses at them. Why was she so entranced by these two? Milly felt ashamed that she spent so much time thinking about them, especially after the dozens of speeches Meryl gave her throughout any given day. Milly knew that Meryl was giving herself the speech too, just out loud, because most of the time as they traveled they did so crammed in a car with Conrad and Mr. Vash. The latter of which Meryl had taken quite a liking to; although given the chance, Milly had a feeling she may have as well.

The doctor drove an old car that got good gas mileage unlike the trucks the others drove. Mr. Conrad usually took the wheel with Vash riding shotgun. Meryl and Milly sat in the small back seat with their things. Meryl frequently sat with the typewriter on her lap, but often times she lifted her eyes to look at the back of Mr. Vash's head. Milly had noticed there was a little mole under his hairline, so she stared at it sometimes, and then she played connect-the-dots with all of the liver spots and freckles on the doctor's balding head. Other times she watched the scenery go by or simply tried reading one of the atrocious books Meryl had assigned her. None of them described the legendary gunman before them at all. So when she got incredibly bored, she'd turn around in her seat and peer out the back window to see if Nicholas or Livio were driving the truck immediately behind them. But they rarely did. Most of the time they either lead the group or followed in the rear of the caravan.

Today was the first time they'd spoken to her in more than a phrase since the first day they met. It was a pleasant surprise until Milly realized that she needed to get ready for breakfast, especially if they were coming along, but she couldn't do so with them watching! "Well, I guess I'll get up then… would you two mind waiting outside while I change?"

Livio started to stand but Wolfwood crossed his arms over his chest and remained sitting. "We have direct orders to keep an eye on you at all times." A slow, wicked smile flickered over his countenance. Nicholas could see the red creeping up over Milly _and_ Livio's faces as he did. Truth was, it really didn't matter where they waited, inside or out while she changed, but he hadn't been able to mess with a girl in months and Milly was ripe for the picking. Sure he was a priest, but nothing was written that he couldn't _look_, he just couldn't touch.

"We can wait outside…" Livio said awkwardly, walking stiffly to the door with his back hunched slightly; he was too tall for the tent. His head brushed the top of the tent even bent over. "Nick, come on…"

Milly was nodding almost imperceptibly, waiting for him to leave. Her stomach made a fearsome growl and Nicholas laughed. He stood finally, although he leaned over and nearly touched noses with Milly. Her face became a brilliant red color, as she could smell the faint cigarettes on his breath. _I'd imagined this, sure but…_ Milly almost closed her eyes thinking he was going to kiss her, but instead he stuck out his tongue slightly. "You girls are all the same, aren't you? Always so modest. Alright, I'll leave, but don't be like your little friend and take forever getting ready."

Suddenly his stomach growled as well and Wolfwood straightened up, embarrassed. Milly laughed and then the priest followed suit. "I guess you got me. We'll be waiting right outside, Big Girl." He winked at her and he and Livio slipped out of the tent leaving Milly alone again.

She sunk immediately back on the cot and let out a long sigh. Her heart was pounding a million iles an hour! Sure she knew her share of boys back on the farm, but none of them had ever made her heart want to burst its way out of her chest before! Plus the fact he was a priest! But he was so handsome… Milly shook her head like she'd seen Meryl do a thousand times before and got up and started to change as fast as she could. This was no time to be worrying about guys! This was her job, and if she got to spend some quality time with two cute bodyguards for Vash the Stampede, then so be it. At least she could tell the girls back at the office about it, and perhaps she'd gain some respect with them. Or maybe not, she was always going to be the girl next door, but getting the attention of these two handsome fellows…

With that thought, Milly stopped dressing. She was nearly finished tucking in her shirt when the thought struck her. _Why are they paying me attention now? What did he mean by having to keep an eye on me at all times? _Milly bit her lip, stuck out her tongue, and then squeezed her face into the most thoughtful expression she could muster before letting it all loose when she heard Wolfwood's voice outside of the tent. "Come on, Big Girl, if you don't hurry up it'll be lunch before we get breakfast!"

"Coming!" After that, Milly didn't give another thought to the reasons the two were paying her such close mind. At least, not for now, deciding not to look a gift toma in the mouth.

She finished getting dressed, ran a brush through her blond hair and ran out to join them for breakfast.

Not surprisingly, Meryl and Mr. Vash were already sitting in their customary spots at one end of the mess tent. Half-empty mugs of coffee sat in front of them, as well as toma-egg omelets and toast with jam. What was surprising was that neither of them was talking; they were just silently eating their food, occasionally sipping their coffee, but otherwise avoiding any eye contact or exchanging words. Meryl was fighting the blush that kept rising on her face as she thought of that morning's wake up call.

Meryl spent so much time with Mr. Vash that, providing it wasn't all a show because there were rumors he was quite the man of disguises, she had a feeling she was getting to know him better than any other person on the planet. Well, besides Doctor Conrad, and perhaps even the eerie Chapel. Luckily for her, the latter was no where to be seen since the morning before they started traveling again and the former was a kind old man who always answered Meryl's questions with sincerity and perhaps a bit too precisely. She wondered on occasions if they weren't rehearsed.

Although she considered she knew him so well, Mr. Vash was still a complete mystery. This morning he had come to her tent as she was getting up and around for the morning and had invited her to take a walk with him. She agreed and they walked a little ways from the camp, up onto hill overlooking the valley that lay beyond. "Our destination is May City as you well know, but before that we will be traveling through Bad Lad territory."

"The Bad Lads?" Meryl put her thumb and forefinger to her nose, rubbing it in thought and then her eyes went wide. "You mean Brilliant Dynamites Neon?"

Vash nodded. He gave her a worried expression and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Meryl swallowed. Vash hadn't touched her much since he saved her in Valadour but it was like an electric shock ran through her body when he did. Every single hair on her body stood on end and she had to fight from allowing a shiver to run over her body. He turned her to face him, "This is dangerous territory. But not as dangerous as the monster that is at our dogging our footsteps at this very moment."

Meryl frowned, "Monster?" She closed her mouth, looking at his earnest expression and grave nod. "You mean the man I saw out in the desert?"

"Yes…"

"But who is he?"

"I'm afraid telling you would put you in even more danger. But for now…"

A dark scowl formed on Meryl's face. Here he was, avoiding her questions again! Well, she wouldn't have that! "Mr. Vash…"

The gunman lifted his hand from her as if in shock from her words. He was, in fact, startled that she'd guessed the identity of the person following him until finally realizing rather that she was addressing him. Knives inwardly chided himself for his moment of carelessness as Meryl started to look around for the reason he was spooked suddenly. _Of course, this ruse of mine--how tired I am of using this alias._ "I'm sorry, I just…" Knives really couldn't come up with a good excuse for why he had jumped besides the true reason.

For nearly a week now he had kept up this guise while the real Vash was tracking them. So many times those around him had nearly slipped in revealing the secret, but Knives knew the moment they found out he wasn't the _real_ Vash, the girls would immediately demand to leave. The fools would probably turn tails and follow after his brother who was as scary as the rumors portrayed him as. Either they would wind up in his bed or left to rot in the desert, knowing Vash. It sent shivers down Knives' spine thinking about it. So no, he couldn't just stop using the alias. He was Vash for these two, and as long as he could, he'd protect them from the real threat.

However, there was still the matter at hand, the little insurance girl, who had a hand on one of her hidden derringers, thinking perhaps their stalker had returned. "Where is he? Over that hill over there? I thought I saw movement a bit ago…" She started to turn, even took a step away from Knives, when he reached out with both hands and wrapped his arms around her.

Meryl screeched and started to wave her restricted arms when Knives put his mouth to her ear and said, "Calm down, I don't mean to harm you."

Her heart pounded fiercely. Meryl could feel a tickling in her stomach as she felt the velvety soft words brush her ear. This was worse than the time he picked her up to save her! She wanted nothing more than to melt in his arms right then and there or to turn around and kiss him just like in one of those trashy romance novels she picked up at the dime store from time to time.

Mr. Vash was so warm and strong, and she could just stay there forever, his broad chest against her back. She looked down at his arms. His sleeves were pulled back now, and she could see the scratches and scars that were there after years of fighting and from other occasions that were too bad to mention. There was however, a very smooth and clean area on his left forearm, as if it had never been harmed at all. It stood out on his arm because of this fact and Meryl almost made a point to mention it until he suddenly let her go. "I'm sorry, but you shouldn't go off on your own. It's too dangerous."

Meryl's heart was still pounding on its own accord as she turned to face him once again. She was avoiding eye contact now, rather staring out into the desert behind him as she put away her derringer. "You shouldn't just grab a girl like that, you know! Besides, what was it that startled you so much?"

Knives looked down at her dark hair and for a moment remembered how she had felt in his arms. She was so tiny and petite, like a cuddly teddy bear. The simple idea of being able to hold her like one, and even going to sleep with her in his arms, brought a whole new feeling to him he'd never experienced before. When had this feeling developed? They had spent so much time together he hadn't even noticed the growing interest in her until this moment. But it was too dangerous, Vash could be nearby somewhere, or one of his spies could be watching… Knives quelled the thought instantly. "I just realized we're going to be late for breakfast, that's all."

"That's it?!" Meryl's hackles rose. "What is it with you men and food anyway?!" Crossing her arms over her chest she turned and headed off back down the hill without him. "Here I thought we were going to finally get some action because that creep showed up again… I swear…" Meryl didn't stop talking the rest of the way down but it was only to keep her from thinking about what had just happened. Unfortunately it didn't work and she kept thinking a long set of thoughts internally as her mouth talked out loud. _Dammit, why couldn't he have just kissed me and gotten it over with?! Wait, what am I thinking? He's my job! But he's so gentle and we were far enough away that Milly wouldn't have found out… But instead all he could think about was getting food in his stomach! That rolling six-pack stomach…_

During breakfast, neither of them talked. They were silent when Milly, followed by Wolfwood and Livio, came into the mess tent. Meryl lifted her eyes. "It's about time, Milly! I didn't think you'd ever get up."

Milly lowered her head slightly as she came around the table to sit next to her friend "I'm sorry, Meryl. I'll try to do better next time."

Meryl chuckled and tapped Milly's arm with her fist lightly. "It's okay, Milly, I'm just giving you a hard time. Besides, looks like you've been visiting again…"

Wolfwood and Livio had gone straight over to get their breakfast from the cook. _Men and their food,_ Meryl remarked to herself again. She turned to look at Milly who had turned a bright pink. One eyebrow rose. "You okay Milly?"

"What? Oh! Oh yes, I'm fine Meryl," her big friend said awkwardly "I was just thinking about how safe it feels around here, what with traveling with known outlaws and all." She smiled and lifted her eyes to Mr. Vash who nodded.

"That's what makes it so safe," he said after taking a sip of his coffee. "No one messes with outlaws… or at least when they _think_ you're an outlaw." Knives set down his mug. "Except for the occasional run-in, this is the safest place for you two to be right now." He smiled and Milly and Meryl giggled in return.

Just as Wolfwood and Livio were bringing over their plates and an extra one for Milly, Dr. Conrad came into the tent in a hurry. "Vash, my boy, I need to speak to you." Knives made a motion that it could wait but Bill cut in, "I'm sorry, but it's urgent."

Knives nodded and stood. "Excuse me, Ladies, it seems I have business to take care of. Please rest and enjoy the remainder of the day, perhaps we'll be able to speak more at dinner." He turned and followed Conrad out of the mess tent.

Milly and Meryl turned to look at one another, and then at Nick and Livio who were sitting across from them. They looked tense from the doctor's sudden appearance but they made no move to follow them out. At least not until they'd eaten. Already they were both digging into their plates that were piled twice as high as hers. "Boy, you two eat like you're teenagers!" Milly chirped.

Livio choked on his omelet and Nicholas turned and pounded him on the back. "There ya go buddy, don't forget to swallow down the right tubes!" He grinned at Milly. "You work as hard as we do and ya need to eat. Besides, we don't get to eat as much as you do, being Spikey's favorites and all." Wolfwood cringed; he'd used the nickname in front of the girls.

Meryl laughed, "Spikey! What a fitting name!" She giggled and sipped her coffee. "You sure do speak your mind, don't you, Mr. Nicholas?"

"A bit too much for his own good sometimes," Livio murmured. Wolfwood scowled at him. A small smile came to the big man's lips. It almost made up for the scary mask that hid half of his face.

"I'm a man of the cloth, so I speak the truth," Nicholas said suddenly holding his hand to his heart with a gusto that only he could manage under the circumstances. "One of the Ten Commandments is not to lie." He lifted his nose into the air. "As a man of God, I will do my utmost to be an example for all of His people." Then with an impish grin, he reached that same hand into his front pocket, pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his teeth to continue. "Follow me, my flock, and I shall lead you…"

Milly laughed and applauded, and Meryl put her hand to her face. "You are the most bizarre priest I have ever met."

"Have you met many others?" Nicholas asked, pulling the cigarette from his lips. Then he raised a hand. "I mean, not counting the fifteen here?"

Meryl bit her lip. "I suppose only one."

"Probably an old one in the town where you grew up, correct?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

Nicholas grinned. "You don't know what he could have been like when he was younger, correct?"

"No."

He picked up his fork again before the peculiar priest finished. "Then how do you know I'm the _most_ bizarre?"

Milly gazed between Nicholas and Meryl. "Wow, Meryl, he sure has you there, doesn't he?"

The little insurance girl let out forced chuckle. "Yes Milly, I suppose he does." She shook her head and went back to eating her breakfast, followed in suit by Milly and the others in relative silence.

Meanwhile, Knives and Conrad sat over the small portable satellite radio in the doctor's tent. It fizzled and popped, but they could just barely make out the report over the radio. "…found dead yesterday…body of a…who had only one eye… She was found…white Cadillac…license plate for…Augusta…" Knives flipped off the radio suddenly.

"So, he's about thirty iles west of here."

William nodded. "From the description I'd say that's Dominique. She had been tracking him for a few years now from what I heard. Legato called her one of the Gung-ho Guns, but she'd always had her own agenda to kill him." He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his bald head. "He's getting sloppy, leaving her body like that."

"Vash is growing impatient," Knives replied, his fingers resting on the silver gun at his side. Normally he rarely wore it, but lately it was always a fixture on his person, although normally hidden from the girls. "I don't know what he's playing at."

"He wants to seek revenge for…"

"I _know_ the story," the blond man snapped. "If he stays headed in the same direction, he'll bypass the canyon and be a few days behind us in reaching May City. It could be a problem since we'll be needing supplies by then."

Conrad nodded, "You were meaning to drop the girls there, weren't you?"

"Yes. But now I'm worried. He's taken out one of the army which means they aren't all on his side any more. Legato and he may have made a break and Legato…" Knives shivered. If Legato was no longer working for Vash, than he would most likely attempt to contact them again. He stood from his chair. "I need you to send Marcoh and his men to gather information this afternoon. They can meet up with us in May City."

The doctor nodded. "Right away." He turned and left the tent, and Knives sat back down in front of the radio and flipped it on again.

"Just what are you planning, Vash?"


	18. CH 17 Curious Relations

_Thanks again to our patient reviewers! Goodness, we REALLY didn't mean for the span of time to be so vast between one chapter and another – honest! Unfortunately, lives as they are, keep breaking into our pace as writers, and LOTS of things have happened to bring us to a grinding halt. However, do not fear, for those of you who have stuck with us – we're still planning on bringing this story to a conclusion – promise! See you, hopefully very soon!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it), and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

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**Chapter 17**

**On the Road Again**

**Stardate: 09-14-0110-19:00 **

Livio's grip was rigid on the steering wheel while his eyes were pinned on the winding road ahead of him. He was trying his level best not to give in to temptation and glance at the girl beside him. This was a battle that had been going on for the better part of the evening and he could feel his resolve to not look at her fading. She was only a hand's span away from him on the seat, which was acceptable because she hadn't moved an inch since she first hopped into the truck, chatting merrily in her perky voice. Livio flinched every time her elbow accidentally brushed against his arm, but for the most part he believed he had been able to ignore her without being obvious about it. However, there was a new dilemma in the making and if it kept up he may have to slam on the brakes and bail out.

Normally on these longer trips, Livio drove most of the time as his body rarely reached the same stages of weariness that the average human would experience after a long stretch behind the driver's wheel. At least not with his particular level of enhancement. Every once in a while he and Wolfwood would trade places so his friend would feel like he was pulling his fair share of the load. And Livio knew how touchy his priestly friend could be about that sort of thing.

The weight in the seat next to him shifted and he stiffened in response. He shot a quick glance at the girl sitting between them before wrenching his eyes back to the windshield. She, Milly, was slowly tilting his way and he wasn't sure what to do about it Another glance out of the corner of his eye told him that her lovely blue eyes were drifting downward even as she was slumping toward him. When the weight of her head came to rest on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin despite the fact he knew it was coming.

Wolfwood's voice came soft and low in the cab but loud enough to be heard over the road noise and engine, "Relax, she's just sleeping."

Livio, having had no practical experience whatsoever with the opposite sex for most of his short life, sat ramrod straight in his seat, eyes determinedly set as he followed the glare of the headlights bouncing up and down over the road.

"But... but... she smells!" He managed to choke out in a horrified whisper.

A fake cough into a fist was heard before Wolfwood responded, "Be very glad that she wasn't awake to hear that! I may not know much about women either, but I do know they don't like hearing that they smell, or God forbid, have gained weight."

True, while not the womanizer he could have been if not plucked from the orphanage at a young age, Nicholas did seem to have an almost instinctive knowledge that most certainly outstripped Livio's bafflement over the female half of the human race.

Livio sputtered out in chagrin, "But I, I…didn't... ssshe's not..." Exasperated, he blurted out, "You know what I mean! Remember the flower box outside of the girl's rooms at the orphanage!"

"Yeah," came the reply in thoughtful tones, "I remember." Wolfwood's mind harkened back to an earlier, more carefree time. He glanced down at the female between them. His friend was right, she did smell nice.

With her head resting on him, it was easy for Livio to catch a whiff of flowers and other clean-smelling things that seemed to embody the mystery called 'female' and he caught himself inhaling deeply. The huge white-maned man could have groaned but restrained himself. There was no way he wanted to risk waking her up. Although, come to think of it, maybe that would have been better, she would have gotten _off_ of him if she had. But after the morning before, he doubted that anything would have woken her up short of dumping her out of the truck!

"Take her!" He implored of Wolfwood.

"How?" Wolfwood wasn't teasing or being impish, he was genuinely puzzled as to how go to about moving the sleeping girl.

"I don't know! Just... tug on her or something."

For the first time he looked pleadingly at his friend over the top of a head of glorious sun-colored hair and caught even a stronger whiff of everything he associated with 'not male'. Lamenting the impulse that made him turn his head, he snapped his eyes back to the road snaking through the towering canyon walls.

With desperation he hissed, "I don't care what you have to do, but get her on your side!"

"What makes you think I want her on my side?"

Livio seethed through grinding teeth. He could tell by the light tone of voice that his friend was intending to draw out the torture and tease him mercilessly. Especially because he knew that one of the ways that Nicholas had attempted to wake up Milly the morning before was by a kiss like a princess in a fairy tale. It hadn't worked of course, but Nick was amused when doing so! If the girl had been aware she would have never agreed to sit with them in their truck for this leg of the journey. Girls got mad about that sort of thing... or did they? A puckered frown appeared between Livio's brow as he pondered that. Again his vast ignorance of said alien species from which Milly hailed, was more than apparent to him.

He snapped out a warning that never ceased to work for him, "Because if you don't, you won't get a wink of sleep for the rest of this journey!"

"Oh, dude, say no more, your wish is my death threat!" Livio was notorious for his ability for 'controlled snoring'. Whenever he wanted revenge on someone, he could go to sleep while giving himself a mental cue and right on cue during the middle of the night, he would begin snoring no matter how deeply asleep he was. To say that it was loud enough to shatter stone was an understatement.

"Just get her over there!" He grated.

"Calm down crybaby, she's just a girl, not scary ole Chapel!" Despite his assessment, Wolfwood had his hands up, hovering in the vicinity of her shoulders, uncertain as to where exactly the safe zones began and ended, however, he was pretty sure the tops of shoulders were within acceptable limits.

He crooked his left leg up onto the seat and twisted around until he was facing both Milly and Livio. He landed one hand on her shoulder and at that moment, his world tilted and shifted. Frozen, he stared at his hand where it rested, nearly engulfing her whole shoulder despite the fact that she was a taller and bigger girl than most. It was in that instant that his large, scarred hand suddenly and dramatically changed before his eyes. No longer did he see it as familiar, but something foreign, rough, tanned, and too enormous even for her; he started to lift the offensive appendage away, feeling vulgar, coarse, and clumsy.

"What's taking so long! Going to send her telegram first?"

Wolfwood's eyebrows shot up. Snarling sarcasm was not Livio's usual style of dealing with a problem.

"Funnneeee! Taking that sense of humor out for a test spin?"

"She's practically all over me!"

"You wish!"

"_Nicholasss_..." Livio hissed. Wolfwood knew better than to push it beyond this point, especially when his name was being spit out like a curse word.

He was already facing her so gingerly reached across her for the shoulder furthest away from him. Livio saw his action and helped by lifting his shoulder so that Milly was somewhat propped upright, although her head began to sink until her chin nearly touched her collarbone. Careful not to touch any other part of her which wasn't as easy as he imagined it would be, Wolfwood lightly settled his hand on the opposite shoulder and tugged lightly. At first nothing happened so he tugged a little harder. The result was immediate. She tipped and fell over into his lap

Livio looked over just in time to see Nick's arms frozen in space at shoulder level as he stared down at the still-sleeping woman with a horrified expression on his face.

Hearing the soft bark of laughter, Wolfwood lowered his arms and whipped his head around to snarl, "Stop laughing you big ape, this is not funny!"

"I can just see you years from now with a parcel of blonde-haired kids following behind you carrying miniature versions of your cross. Serves you right for stealing that kiss yesterday!"

"Suck dirt!" On saying that, Wolfwood, literally, took matters into his own hands and grabbed the sleeping woman's shoulders and heaved up while at the same time wondering at her unusual skill of being able to sleep even when as she was jounced around in a noisy truck cab like a child's ball. He managed to move her and let go, but all that happened was her torso slid over until she was fully draped across his lap instead of partially, with her head on the door armrest It couldn't be comfortable, her head was jiggling and being jolted with every dip and bump in the road. Again, his hands were hovering in the air above her hesitantly as he expected her to wake up any second and slug him a good one. When she didn't, he carefully reached under her and slid his arm beneath her head and gently lifted her it until it was cradled in the crook of his arm. After that, he was at a loss as to what to do with her. At least her head wasn't being bounced around.

He watched, fascinated as slight puffs of breath moved the strands of hair that had fallen across her pink lips. Without conscious knowledge, his free hand brushed the clinging strands away from her face before realizing what he had done. He wasn't in his right mind and he didn't care. The large, calloused hand halted midair as the sight transfixed him. The light from the rising first moons fell across her cheeks and chin making them glow a soft silver sheen. Her blonde lashes lay like whispers of dark shadow against the satin sheen against her skin. He reached up and ran the back of his index finger across her cheek, reveling in the velvet texture he found there.

"I'm gonna tell!" Livio said in a singsong voice. Looking up, Wolfwood pinned his large friend with a dark, hooded glare, but with restraint, reminded himself that it was only when he and Livio were alone that Livio showed any of his humanity. If anyone else had been in the cab with them, the huge man would have remained the silent statue that everyone thought him to be. They only saw a stone-faced a massive hulk of a man, who spoke in a monosyllabic whispers, if at all. The man-altered creature, more tool than man, more pieced-together enhancements than human; it was no wonder they were nervous when in his presence for any length of time and ready to escape it with any feeble excuse.

Ignoring his white-haired friend for the moment, Wolfwood slipped his other arm under the girl and lifted her up until her upper body was also cradled in his arms. It would have been sweet temptation to just stay that way, but even without looking he could feel Livio's eyeballs bugging out of their sockets.

He sighed in regret before lifting her even higher. When she was nearly upright, although drooping, her head sank down until it rested against his chest and then she followed that action by snuggling up against him. He froze. What now? He didn't know what to do! Flummoxed, he turned to Livio and instead of meeting the expected goggle-eyed look; he found a cheek-splitting grin at the priest's predicament. Wolfwood fumed, this woman was trouble! More to himself than to Livio, he muttered, "She's only a insurance girl. A little thing really. What's the worst she could do? Threaten to sell us insurance?"

Soft chuckling came from the other side of the cab. Wolfwood would have slugged his friend in the arm except both of his were occupied. He settled for another intimidating glare.

"Sure Nick. Just a little thing. You weren't there when she helped me tear down the main tent. She's ungodly strong for an paper-pusher."

"This little slip of a thing?"

"You're so stupid Nick."

"You are! You're afraid of a girl!"

"So are you!"

"Am not!"

"Too!"

"Not!"

Forgetting his burden, Wolfwood let go and reached around the slumbering girl to punch Livio's arm, when a sound had them both freezing in their seats. Milly sat straight up, stretched her arms out until her fists hit the cab roof, (they glanced up at the soft thunk though she didn't seem to notice), then gave another jaw-popping yawn. Then, surprising them both, she collapsed back down on Wolfwood's chest, clutching at his white shirt and snuggling in again only this time making little happy, contented sounds as she did so.

"She's... she's... got me!" Nicholas said in a horror-struck whisper. He stared down at her with wide eyes before helplessly looking up Livio who pursed his lips in a silent whistle before dissolving into gleeful sniggering.

Shoulders slumping, Wolfwood gave in and reached around and held the girl in a loose hug, silently wishing all manners of sand-blasted hells on his chortling friend in the driver's seat. Absently he dropped his nose into the soft river of her sun-streaked hair, listening to the odd purring and chuckling noises she was made in her sleep. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard her say 'pudding' but he could have imagined that. He sighed. Women were trouble, big, big trouble, only with different body parts.

"Don't worry, Master said we would stop once we arrive at Thread-the-Needle. We have to be careful though, it's right in the middle of Bad Lad territory."

"I know, I know... geez, whaddya think I am, an idiot?" Wolfwood paused, shot a suspicious glance over the blonde girl's head, adding, "I heard that, you ass!"

"I didn't say a thing!" Livio tried his best to sound innocent. His eyes watched the ravine walls flash by the cab windows, the unrelieved monotony of the never-ending terrain of the past several hours was getting old and he wished they were at their destination already.

"You thought it, I know you did," accused the young priest. He was silent for a few seconds before glancing back at his large friend. "Bad Lads are pretty nit-picky about anyone trying to trespass on their grounds. I'm figuring they will be right cranky to our entering their territory."

Livio gave a soft snort, he wasn't worried, "You ready?"

"Surgically altered to be that way." Wolfwood replied without a trace of humor.

"Watch it Nick." Wolfwood knew his friend well enough to know that he wasn't talking about the Bad Lads; Livio confirmed his belief when he went on, "She doesn't know and you never know what she might overhear. These girls, they just aren't used to..."

"Monsters?" Came the low answer.

"Something like that."

"No worries. She sleeps like the dead. Ain't never seen anything like it." He realized as he felt his friend's probing eyes resting on the side of his face that he had his nose buried in the top of her head again, inhaling her scent. Busted.

There was silence in the cab for several minutes, before Livio said softly, "You're stepping on loose sand, Nick."

Wolfwood refused to look over at the face of his friend, glowing eerily from the dashboard lights. Closing his eyes he muttered in return, "I know."

* * *

**Dune Encounter**

_**Meanwhile**_

Knives looked over at the petite form huddled up in the corner of the front seat and wondered how she could sleep through the rocking and jolting of the bumps constantly pitching the truck from side to side. It couldn't be helped for the road was rough from little use. He knew she was exhausted. He had been watching her push herself but he didn't realize that she was as worn out as this, especially since; like most of his men, he had only been around a limited number of females in his long life. He may not remember much, but he was sure of that fact even if he didn't know why. What did have a ring of familiarity to it were the images that came to him in dreams. He was small, child-sized although he didn't remember ever being a child, and he was looking up at an adult human female. She was pretty with dark brown eyes and long black hair. A soft smile played across her lips as she looked down at him. Then she held out her hand and he watched as his own small one reached up for hers. That was it. The whole piece that played over and over in his dreams. No more, no less. Who was it? His mother? That didn't feel right though. A slight pucker appeared between his brows. That was the crux wasn't it? What were dreams and what were memories? He didn't know.

However, no matter what feeling he had when he was looking up at the tall long-haired female of his dreams, no matter how small he was then, what was going on now was that, at the moment, he was looking at a female with a _grown _male plant's eyes. It was a totally different feeling. One that left him very uncomfortable as if he didn't have any control. How did one describe this feeling, being slightly hungry, longing for something, wanting something but not knowing what it was exactly and how to relieve the tension that sang along his nerves. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the clamor of the unknown.

Several hours ago, she had climbed into the car and within minutes had slumped down into the nook between door and seat and had fallen asleep. He knew her fatigue wasn't only from endless days of travel. He should have kept a closer eye on her but it was hard not to overlook it when she was so willing to help out and again, and, quite frankly, he wasn't sure what the limitations were for a human female. They were more fragile then males, right? He shot a quick glance at the sleeping form. She especially looked like a small, elf-like doll full of spit and fire.

He churned that thought over in his mind. How did he know or remember certain things, like biology, science, speech, and still not know this? Did females need more sleep? Did they have less stamina? They were the same as men... but not. He gave a little shake of his head in irritation. Stupid. He shouldn't let this absorb his time. He had been doing a great job of ignoring her, that is, until Dr. Conrad informed him that Meryl wasn't eating as much as she should and also not getting enough rest.

Knives really was at a loss at how to treat her. He had decided that he should treat both women like his men, but ran into a fatal flaw. The first time he had tried to punch Meryl on the arm like he had observed was common behavior among humans, she had been knocked to the side off her feet. For days afterwards she couldn't use that arm even though she insisted it was nothing. Again, it was Conrad who had informed him of the bruised muscle that was going to be sore for a while.

That didn't stop her from her work though. Annoying little bundle of boundless energy wrapped up in lace and flower petals, that's how the Doctor described her. Who insisted on showering _every day_, every sandblasted day! Then had the audacity to smell good all the time. Extremes! That was it! No, wait, Livio went to extremes to never let anyone see his scars, he showered alone. So, no, it wasn't that.

Knives realized he was gnawing on his lip, and stopped, embarrassed. Nervous traits were what humans did, but not him. Somehow he knew he was... was... was what? That thought was such a common thought that he could never untangle to the end, that he was expert at dropping it and moving onto another topic.

So, he absently tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he considered the information from the good doctor, she was constantly interviewing the men over and over again, trying to catch them up. However, to her mounting frustration, only misinformation was given her and she was clever enough to know it. The men, of course, would spin incredible yarns as long as she would let them. Knives had been kept informed about her progress, or lack thereof at first, much to his amusement but then to his growing alarm. He also knew that she was getting more and more annoyed at the conflicting stories she was collecting and cross-referencing. But again, it was the doctor who found out that she was starting to put together theories he would rather she didn't know about.

If that wasn't enough, as soon as camp was settling down for the night, Meryl could be heard at her typewriter tapping, and clacking into the night. It was strange that no one complained about it. Knives frowned, and drummed harder. Probably the men wanted to stay on her good side, which was hard to do when she knew she was being lied to. Knives blew out a breath, exasperated. What do to? What to do? He couldn't just shove them out the door of a moving car and hope Vash didn't find them. He couldn't keep them with him forever. He was walking a fine line.

He thought back to the night he had punched her and nearly sent her flying through the canvas side. It was the morning after she pulled an all-nighter and looked it. He walked up to her, reminding himself to treat her like one of the guys. His quick appraisal took in the dark purple smudges under her eyes, the pale complexion and the yawn she tried to fight back even as she filled her mug with coffee. He, ever so humorously, he had thought, suggested that she should take an evening off, pointing out that there wasn't a mailbox in this forgotten edge bordering on the worst part of the Outer. All he got for his efforts was a snarl and an empty tin of coffee she had in hand at the time, thrown at him. He shrugged off the assault, laughed and then slugged her in the arm. He was as surprised as everyone else when she went flying off to the side, tripping over her feet. Coffee was launched out of her cup in an arc while others scrambled out of the way trying to avoid the hot liquid, and the mug fell on the table, bounced off while a shriek filled with curses pierced the air. Knives, nonplussed, for the first time in however many years he had been alive, felt about an inch high.

Sputtering apologies, he leaped over and lifted Meryl to her feet, then ordered someone to get her another mug of coffee and whatever was being served that morning. She resisted every step of the way as he ushered her, 'strong-armed' she later claimed, to a bench. He helped her sit down, 'shoved' was her term for it, and gallantly went off to ask the cook to make her some French toast, her favorite.

It was also during this time that he came to realize just how important her job was to her. After that incident, he enlisted the doctor's help in keeping an eye on her for him, figuring that he would be more attune to what was normal and what was not for the female human. The doctor had merely studied him for a second before nodding. In that moment he had tensed, hoping the doctor didn't suspect why he was asking him to do him this favor. He was doing his best to curtail the amount of time he spent with the insurance girls. Let the other men trip over their feet to be around them with tongues hanging out, which was a disgraceful sight when taking into account that they were supposed to be the equivalent of monks.

Reaching up, Knives and rubbed chin, a scratching sound coming from the end-of-the-day whiskers while going over the information from the doctor that morning. He cast another look at Meryl's form under the blanket, the delicately curved and intriguing, valleys and hills that the draping folds of the blanket couldn't hide.

Ordinarily Knives was fastidious when it came to matters of hygiene, but with the rapid pace they had been setting lately there were a couple of morning activities he had been skipping over since they were constantly traveling now.

He wondered how she was able to look so well groomed even with that cute pixie haircut all unkempt and mussed up. It looked good on her, no matter how tousled her hair was. Her clothes were rumpled and a bit stained from unending travel and little water to clean, but the air around her was scented with what smelled like a cross between honey and lilacs. She didn't smell sweaty or dirty. Upon that thought he sniffed only to make a face. Not at all like him at the moment. When they stopped for the night, he would order some water and, if nothing else, use a cloth to wash most of the road residue off his body. He was beginning to smell as funky as some of his devotees who seemed to have given up on the idea of bathing along with women.

To take his mind off his less than pleasing odor, he thought back to the doctor's report upon making sure that the dark-haired agent wasn't around to overhear them. The doctor relayed a piece of information he was unaware of; even when she did sleep, some mornings she had been getting up with the set-up crew and helping start the tear-down process. Her tall friend, who quite frankly, was of more help in the physical labor department, had joined her. It didn't take a genius to know that Milly came from a background that stressed a strong work ethic. One would rarely find Milly inside of a tent during the day and she could be seen lifting and toting with a huge smile on her face. She enjoyed being outside while in contrast; Meryl was at home in anything that resembled an office.

It was his suspicion that Meryl worked as hard as she did because she didn't want to be a burden, or to give him any excuse to send the two of them away. It was as if she could sense that was what was going through his mind. Despite the fact of the matter that was exactly what he _couldn't_ do, she got the reason why he wanted to ditch them wrong. He was afraid of her. Not the investigative side of her with the penetrating questions and unending curiosity that demanded she figure out the solution to a puzzle. Actually, he enjoyed the word games and the verbal sparring that went on between them.

No, rather it was when he was on the receiving end of those eyes that shifted so easily from soft dove gray to flashing lavender, well, to tell the truth, it was a little daunting at times. Knives ran a hand through his pale blond hair, again regretting the fact that he rarely had much to do with women of any kind. It was a gut-level instinct telling him that. He shot another frustrated glance at the small huddle of blanket with a bit of night-black hair poking up over the top. Why was this, so, so... complicated? With everything else going on that demanded his attention, she just had to waltz in and upset things even worse than they already were!

The memory of last night returned full force, making him wince. It was the night that satellite reported Vash's latest sighting. Just thinking about that still made his blood run cold. He had been drinking an after-dinner cup of coffee with Meryl in the mess tent, both of them chuckling over his need to heap spoonful after spoonful of sugar into his coffee. Her remark, "It's like you need it!" caught him off guard and his spoon froze in the midst of stirring, or so he thought. He had fixed his startled gaze on her before dropping his eyes to his cup so she wouldn't see the nerve she had hit. She had chatted on oblivious when his gaze lifted to appreciate the lift of her mouth, the quirk of an eyebrow as she talked, all the expressions causing the color of her eyes to darken or lighten with each thought... it was dizzying to watch, especially since the color would change from gray shades to periwinkle hues. He didn't notice he was staring without hearing what she was saying, until she stopped talking to return his stare. He wondered idly why she had quit talking. Then he realized she was asking him something and he hastily tuned back in, desperate not to be caught in the act of wool-gathering.

"Well?"

"Huh?" He replied dumbly, and could have kicked himself. Could he _sound _any more human?

Tilting her head, she looked down as she pointed to his cup. "I asked, 'do you have enough now?' I counted. You put at least fifteen spoonfuls of sugar in and that is excessive even for you!"

Suddenly she set her mug down on the table with a thud. "Are you okay? You don't look well." She started to rise from her bench when he realized she was going to come around the table, and most likely lay her hand on his forehead to see if he had a fever. If she did that he would indeed have a fever but not like the one she was expecting to find!

Hastily, he explained while leaning back from the table, "I was just thinking about the things that still need to be done. You know," he smiled at her hoping she was buying it, "doing a mental list in my head and I didn't realize I had spaced out. I apologize for leaving you alone for a moment. It is quite unforgivable." He added with a gracious, and at the same time impish, smile of a mischievous child caught with his hand in a cookie jar but fully expecting to be pardoned. With hidden relief he watched her let out a small laugh of understanding and relax back in her seat.

With elbows propped up on the table as she held the mug close to her mouth, Meryl wondered for a second what had held his thoughts captive there for that brief space in time but then shrugged it off. It was easy to be magnanimous; he was looking so deliciously cute at the moment.

Still holding up the mug, but one hand flicked out her fingers in a 'think nothing of it' gesture, "Oh I do that all of the time! Comes with the role of being the responsible one I imagine."

Meryl wondered if he knew how incredibly handsome he was, of the mouth-watering type. Lip-bitingly attractive, if there was such a thing. Dropping her eyes, she made sure to not stare... much. The raven-haired girl hoped he didn't catch her staring. That would be beyond embarrassing! She had been around handsome men before, but this took the cake. Who could deny the obvious fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous? It just wasn't fair, he was her assignment! Then her stomach sank and the logical Meryl took over, reminding her that she was just an ordinary looking girl.

It was then she chanced a glance up and caught the intense blue eyes the color of an early morning blue sky pinned on her. Meryl tried to calm the slamming of her heart and told herself that he was looking at her because, well quite frankly, who else was there for him to look at; never mind the fact, that he was sitting right across from her! Still, as she clamped down on a wistful sigh, she couldn't help her reaction as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Knives watched a smile light up her eyes and knew he was starting to go down, lost beneath the waves of an enchantment as old as time itself. With horror he realized his hand was halfway between them. He saw her watching eyes grow wide. With a deft motion, he pointed a finger at her face saying, "There's a smudge there. Here, let me get it for you." He reached over and wiped at a non-existent smudge on the soft curve of her cheek.

"Well, it's getting late and I am sure that you have reports to write. Let me walk you back to your tent. We are still in the wilds you know." He gave her a warm smile and walked around to stand next to her.

Meryl couldn't believe it; he was coming over to her side and now was standing right next to her. This was a first. She set her mug down and fiddled with it for a moment, dropping her spoon in to make a musical clatter, and then wiping at some grains of sugar with her napkin before pivoting on the bench.

Another surprise greeted her; an extended hand reached out to assist her in standing. At a loss, she took it, looking around wildly for a moment as he effortlessly pulled her up from her seat. Finally she looked up to him and saw a gentle smile play about his lips at her obvious befuddlement. Shyly, with a growing blush, she dropped her gaze and started for the door until she realized that he still had a hold of her hand. That brought her to a stop and looking up at him with questioning eyes she started to ask when he spoke.

"Meryl, you are not attached, right?"

"What! No I most certainly am not! That's not… what I mean is...HEY! What business is it of yours anyway?"

"I mean, are you married or engaged?"

Meryl's mouth hung open as she went hot with embarrassment and then cold. What right had he...? She glared at him, not to be outdone. "I knew what you meant. But I'll answer that the day you answer my questions."

"Touché." He chuckled and then tucked her hand through his elbow so that she had to walk close to him.

"Listen buddy, I have a responsibility and duty..."

"Why do you always hide behind talk about duty, responsibility and your job?"

Meryl sputtered and tried to jerk her hand out of his hold, but he firmly held on and she finally gave up with a soft harumphing noise, deciding not to embarrass herself further.

They walked out the tent flap into the chill of the night air. Seeing the goose bumps rise up on her arms, he let go of her hand and wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. Amazingly, she felt warmer than if she had a wrap to put on. Slowly they walked in the direction of her tent, neither one saying a word. When they drew near, he stopped them with a gentle tug. They stood there for a moment before she began to get impatient and shifted from one foot to the other.

"Meryl, you have me at a disadvantage."

"Huh?" Meryl was at a loss. She didn't think any such thing; instead, to her it was the other way around. She cleared her throat, to try and reply with something a little more intelligent. "Uhm, exactly how, may I ask?"

"No."

Oh she wanted to hit him! Instead she clenched her teeth tight while getting control of herself before saying, "Well, I am sure that Milly is inside just waiting for me to..."

"No," he seemed to be listening to something that only he could hear, "She's not in there right now." He glanced over at her, a tight smile lifting his lips at her eyes widening with alarm. "Don't worry. She's in safe hands."

_Safe! Depends on the hands, buddy! _Meryl immediately scanned the area as if expecting to see her cohort appear any second. Really, that girl needed a full-time watcher as much as this man did! Milly had been nearly spending every minute with the priest and the bodyguard. Well, maybe it was time that they went over the rules again... Meryl was jerked out her concentration when she felt herself being pulled close. Looking up she saw his eyes burning with an emotion that had her catching her breath in the back of her throat. _Gulp._

Gathering her to him, he circled her small, lithe form with lean arms yet corded and hard with muscle that carefully but firmly held her in place. Then, removing an arm he gently placed his fingertips under her chin and slowly tilted her head back so that her face was turned up to his. He gazed down into eyes doing that incredible shift from the cloudy gray to the heather lilac.

A sixth sense warned her and she knew what was going to happen.

Knives lowered his head and softly pressed his lips against hers; waiting to see what the reaction she would have beyond the frozen one. When he felt her lips soften under his, he was gratified and relieved at the same time. The experience was intoxicating and addictive. He wanted more.

However, it was then that he heard it, the mind-voice he had known all of his life, a twin to his own, speaking in that way only the two of them had, cutting through his own thoughts and feelings.

"_It appears that you are enjoying my little gift to you. So, how do you like my generosity on your behalf, eh brother? Delightful, isn't she? And here I thought for sure you would have nothing to do with her and I was going to have to relieve you of my gift. In fact, that was one reason among others why I was out here tonight, but we can talk later. Now doesn't seem to be a good time." _There was a bare space of silence before the voice went on; only the tone was darker, heavier. Was Vash jealous?

_"Or after that kiss have you decided you would rather return my gift? I can take her with me tonight if you are tired of her." _Then Vash's mind-voice laughed mockingly. Knives could hear the dark possessive need and desire behind the words, yes, and he was sure of it now, there was a strain of jealousy there.

His brother wanted this little human! Knives nearly frowned. The girl was definitely not the type that the usually drew his twin's attention.

"Hey! Ow! HELLO!"

Knives felt a sharp pain explode in his temple, and cursing he looked down to see a furious insurance agent with a fist still upraised, ready to land another blow if she didn't get his attention the first time around. He saw the immediate cause of her displeasure. Inadvertently, he had clasped Meryl in an ever-tightening embrace.

Swearing, he shoved her behind him, ignoring her angry outburst. Instinctively, he looked to the high dune to his right, knowing his brother was there. He wasn't surprised to see the dark silhouette rearing up from a dune not too distant from the camp with the second moon bathing him in a silver glowing outline. There was a gasp from behind him. Meryl had leaned around him to see where Knives was staring and also saw the silhouette of a figure not far from the camp.

"Who is that? A bounty hunter?" She demanded. Suddenly her fear transformed to anger, "Well, he's not getting you!" In a breath she darted out of his arm and started toward the dune. "I won't stand for this and we have jurisdiction papers from the federal government authorizing the Bernadelli Insurance Society a general retrieval license..."

In a blinding flash, Knives whipped out an arm, caught her around her tiny waist and lifted. He swung her light form up in a tight circle as he pulled her in against his chest so that her face was buried in his shirt, blocking her view of the intruder. His twin lifted his right hand and it was then that Knives saw the shining gleam of the gun he held in his fist. An arm lowered and straightened out until the barrel was pointing straight at him.

Hurriedly, Knives flung the insurance girl behind him and held her there despite her struggling against the strength of his grip that no amount of effort on her part could break. There was no doubt in his mind that the female was ready to come out from behind him, charge out of camp, and storm over to the dune to take on whoever it was. Brave, but stupid; she had no idea who she was about to clash with and he wanted it to stay that way.

_"Oh, so now you want her! Well, that means you owe me for her as well, Dear Brother." _Despite the term of endearment, the mind-voice dripped with venom, _"Your touch of death will no doubt find a target there, I won't have to do a thing. But for now, I wanted to see what use you are making of my gift, and I see that you are."_

_"Dammit Vash! She's not anyone's possession, certainly not yours, she's a human being, and I won't let you..."_

The silence was loud and cold as the gulf separating them. He was gone and the dune was empty where a shadow had so recently been standing. Like a whisper in the wind, one last thought was cast his way, _"I will triumph over you..._"

"Why did you stop me! I could have shown him papers!" Insisted an incensed Meryl, struggling to get free of the hand holding her back. "If that didn't work I could have reasoned with him." She shook a fist at the dune and Knives had no doubt at what kind of reason she would have resorted to if push came to shove.

"He wasn't here to take me in." Knives informed her, his eyes still scanning where his twin had stood only seconds ago.

"Oh?" She huffed a breath to blow her bangs out of her narrowed eyes "Well, what did he want? And by the way, how could you tell? He didn't say a word." Gray eyes turning silver turned to stare up at him suspiciously. Something was heavy in the undercurrent of the evening, something hidden from her and she didn't like it. Meryl Stryfe uninformed? She didn't approve of that. Yet, since she and Milly had joined this very odd group of people, time and again she felt as if some very pertinent information was being denied her, in fact, as if there were a conspiracy to keep her in the dark. It was starting to rile up her cranky side.

Knives didn't want to tell her what the alleged bounty hunter wanted, she wouldn't like the answer. Swiftly he spun her to face him, not giving her time to comment as his lips enveloped hers. Before she had time to react, he released her, spun her about again and placed a strong hand in the middle of her back while she was still in shock. "Go to bed Meryl, it's been quite a night and tomorrow's a full day." With that, he gave her a little shove in the direction of her tent flap.

She was surprised to find herself going in and getting ready for bed without a word, without a fight. Her thoughts felt clouded and heavy and all she could think about was sleep.

After seeing her into her tent, Knives turned to stare thoughtfully up at the lone dune with thoughts tangled and dark as he pondered his brother's words. Then, with shoulders slumping, he turned and made his way back toward his own tent, his mind turning over and over the fact that Vash had gone out of his way for this unexpected visit.

Coming back after mentally reviewing the memory of that evening, Knives ran a weary hand through his hair. To say that his brother stressed him out was an obvious understatement No doubt he would end up with ulcers before everything was said and done. Having these women around only made matters worse. The platinum blond rubbed a hand over a mouth going dry as he thought of the alternative. He couldn't drop them off just any old place, not with his mentally unstable twin out there following him and expressing an unhealthy interest in the women, especially Meryl

As if that wasn't enough, then he had plant worshippers following behind after him with shouts of, "We are unworthy, we are unworthy." He didn't know about that, but he did know they put off a powerful stench of unwashed bodies. Was there some kind of religious commandment against cleanliness? They should be shouting, "We are unwashed, we are unwashed!" That would be more accurate.

How lucky was he? If it wasn't unwanted attention from that group, it was unwanted attention from Vash. It seemed he was the focus of quite a number of people, from a small group of zealots to huge corporations, bounty hunters, the feds, and last but not the least of his problems, Vash.

At least they had lost the main group of worshippers a while back and Knives was hopeful they had been able to lose his brother in that last fracas when the troupe had split up into four different groups. Only one group had made it to the pre-arranged meeting place in time to join back up with the group he traveled with. In point of fact, it was nice not to be followed by adoring devotees; it was just as bad and nerve-wracking to be loved so intensely as it was to be equally hated. He wondered if he would ever have a normal life, and what was normal anyway? There was a good chance he wouldn't recognize it if he saw it.

He returned to the present, as his musings were jolted by an exceptionally deep pothole. Glancing around he realized that they were slowing and he lifted his foot off the accelerator, letting the truck slow down on its own. Just ahead should be the egress to Thread-the-Needle. Knives threw a glance up at the ravine wall that rose to disappear into the night; it was evidence that the planet once had an abundance of water. He turned his gaze from the once-was and focused on the possible future and the meeting that was a definite _when _rather than a possible _if_.

Life was only going to get more interesting from here on out.


	19. CH 18 Brilliant Dynamites Neon

_Ah yes! Thank you Hope-is-4Ever and Aine of Knockaine! And to all of our other fabulous readers, this is a special chapter for our fans (merely a few days apart from Ch. 17!) Dwellin and I, MillyT, hope you like it. See, I told you that we were planning on getting these up faster, didn't I? Thanks to our readers, we hope you enjoy it!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it), and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

* * *

**Chapter 18 Brilliants Dynamite Neon**

**Stardate: 10-01-0110-20:00**

"Boss! Boss! **Boss**!"

Seething quietly as he always did when his subordinates yelled to get his attention, the squatting huge dark form, illuminated only by the light from the rising moons, drummed his fingers against his knee. The downturn of his mouth was the only sign of his displeasure and it was hidden from view. His men were thinking again, an annoying flaw and this time he was sure it was once again in error about what constituted a crisis needing his attention.

The loud yelling ruined his evening visit and that was something he wouldn't readily forgive. He winced at the rising volume as they scrabbled up the path. The fools didn't realize that he had heard them coming up the trail long before they reached the top the hill to this flattened out area. Shutting his eyes against the inevitable interruption, he could hear the thuds of their footfalls as they tripped and stumbled along the dark path. They were still shouting even as they came closer. Finally there was a stretch of silence broken by panting and nervous whispering by the great pile of rocks that littered the space where the trailhead opened onto the plateau. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, pulling himself away from the memories of the past, of her. It was his custom to spend his time here, watching the suns' sink below the horizon and think back on a time when his life was awash in constant light. He had been rich then, and he, like a fool didn't realize the treasure sparkling right before his eyes. Open fingers clenched into a hard fist as the memories scattered away, like night shadows fleeing the day.

With a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh he rose from his bent knee and stood, gazing at the white stone monument before sending his gaze over the flat ground of the hill around him. It was a small rise of a mound really, not as impressive as some of the other plateaus that surrounded this area. However, it was a hill that he had marked off as his own, no one was allowed up here, no one. It was a private, sacred place. He had meant it when he had said it years ago and the same held true today. Back then several of his band had died, testing his resolve, his word that no one was allowed to set foot up here but himself. His men were believers now and knew that the Boss meant what he said. His word once given was set in stone. From the distant past, a light soft voice, full of affection laughed and he heard, "Brian, you are man of your word, of course I believe you!" Swiftly as it appeared, the memory was chased back into the shadows by the dark void of endless grief.

Reaching up, the huge man lightly touched one of the towering barrel-shaped dynamos he carried on his shoulders as easily as lesser men wore epaulets. Dropping his hand he turned, face stony and set as he approached his underlings. He was still several yarz away when they couldn't contain themselves any longer. Before they could speak, he raised his intricately etched gun and shot one of the men in the leg. The wounded man fell to the ground screaming and writhing. He ignored him and stepped over him, avoiding the thrashing legs, to the other man. Luckily for the second man, he had been a member of the gang for many years and the moaning of his buddy was easily ignored.

"Boss! It's him! You know... HIM! You always told us to interrupt you if we knew HE was coming!" The man still standing was taller and bulkier than his less fortunate companion, and reached down and smacked a fist against the other's helmet to warn him to be silent. The wounded comrade wisely controlled his cries of pain but his ragged breathing could be heard through the mouth filter cylinder of his mask.

The standing one, knowing the Boss's temper quickly spoke, "From our source in Scrub Town we know it is him."

Scrub Town indeed, just a way station with a few buildings that sold fuel and a few supplies. He knew the place. It was devoid of anything that glittered, but did serve a purpose in sending information about intruders his way.

"So, they are making camp... at?" He asked impatiently, a dark scowl growing on his forehead. There weren't too many places on this side of his lands they could enter through and he had a good guess which one it was, but he waited for confirmation anyway.

The taller one spoke again, in a calmer voice this time knowing he had captured the Boss's interest and attention and would be spared the same treatment as his fellow-gang member. "At Thread-the-Hole, just on a few iles away before the barren plains."

"Well, well. Finally I get to meet the infamous 'Devil's Helper' who, single-handedly, reduced a city of one million people to ashes!" The huge man lifted a hand to pull the brim of his hat down, hiding his eyes in the shadow it cast. "I just love it when like minds comes together. Iron sharpens iron and gives off the greatest sparks... don't you agree Bellamy?"

"Uh, right Boss."

"Well, get a vehicle ready, we got company to glitter for tonight."

"Yer car is ready and waiting Boss."

"Oh, and Bellamy, leave the car's glow-strips off. I want to burst upon the scene like the parent sun's rising."

"Sure thing Neon. I'll get right on it." First he turned and heaved his comrade up on one leg and slowly made his way down the path with the wounded man. Soon the two were out of sight. Brilliant Dynamites Neon lifted his head, pondered meeting with the legendary demon gunman, reputed to be a human calamity, and a merciless smile twisted his lips before they parted in a wolfish chuckle.

* * *

**A Plant's Past**

**Stardate: 10-01-0110-23:00**

William Conrad, doctor, plant researcher, Seeds scientist, plant facility specialist, surrogate father, and one time citizen of Earth, sank down onto his stool with a groan. The canvas and plastic camp stool underneath him made alarming creaking noises from the sudden weight settling on it. He knew it wasn't because he was that heavy, no rather the canvas material had seen better days, like most everything in the camp.

Reaching up he ran a hand over his mostly bald pate, then down to the back of his neck to rub at the tight aching muscles there, he stared down at the ground between his feet. He was getting too old for this running around in circles trying to avoid just about everyone in creation! This was a young man's game. All he could think about was the mansion that he used to live in, with green growing plants placed here and there as decoration. It was a huge place, white stone glowing from the light streaming in the windows. He sighed. Hell, he even missed the rooms on his old ship, but right now what he missed most was the bed that was made especially for his back.

"I'm sorry." A voice came from the darkness at the edge of the campfire heat ring. Knives stepped into the circle of man-made light. He carried two mugs with him. One was his sugared coffee, which Conrad complained was unfit for anyone's consumption be it plant or human, and other smelled like herbal tea. Conrad took a sniff and a tired smile crossed his features, it was his favorite flavor of herbal tea. Knives held out the mug to the doctor who received it gratefully. Tea, a habit he had acquired from Rem who insisted it was good for one's health. He wondered if he had ever told Knives that. He held the mug under his nose and inhaled the scent. He doubted it. Instead, he turned his attention back to one of the two people he cared most about in the world. He took a cautious sip.

"Sorry for what Knives?" He asked, blowing on his tea. It was still scalding, but he preferred it too hot rather than tepid. When no answer was forthcoming Conrad lifted his eyes, curious. The mug halted in a return trip to the mouth as the doctor saw something in Knives' face, his eyes, his stance that he had never seen before. Shame. There was also something else... regret?

"Sit down son." Conrad waved to a couple of stools that were set up around the heat ring. It gave off a steady glow but he had tinkered with it so that it performed more like the flickering light of a real campfire.

Knives, probably for the first time ever, sat down tentatively, his eyes first seeking the doctor's before bouncing away again, wondering at the warmth he heard in the doctor's voice.

Conrad was a little surprised himself at the slip but hoped nothing showed on his face. To distract Knives, he reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck again, emitting a soft groan. It was a common tactic to redirect the attention and most of the time it worked.

"Son?" Came the soft inquiry.

Apparently, not this time.

The plant's eyes sharpened and he lost his unsure air and leaned forward to study the doctor with penetrating eyes.

"Been meaning to tell you this for a while." Conrad leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his head lowered between his shoulders. "I knew Tessla was going to be born, although I didn't know about you and your brother."

The flat, blunt statement threw Knives for a loop. Pain pierced his head making him wince and reach up and knead a temple with two fingertips. Old wounds gaped opened for a moment before a great black door slammed down shutting out images that were beginning to stream through to his consciousness.

At a loss, Knives asked with a grimace on his face, "What? What do you mean?"

"She... I knew... I knew she was going to be born, I… tried to stop them... Rem tried to, we couldn't. They barred us from the lab." Knives eyes were wide and staring. "They threatened to put us in cold sleep to prevent us from interfering. We both decided that being conscious was better... " He stopped, lost in thought, before realizing that he might be making a big mistake. They never talked about those days, only briefly alluded to them before quickly changing the subject. It was best to end this discussion before any damage was done.

"You would kill me Knives... if you remembered." He whispered over his mug, the steam curling around the breath of his words as he spoke.

"What are you saying?" The pain was pounding away, like a giant fist thudding on a huge wooden door. Knives' fingers dug dents as he massaged the skin over his temple, one eye closed while looking out of the other at the doctor's lowered head, his back still curved forward, hunched over his tea as if he were protecting something precious.

"Nothing... Everything." Conrad looked up finally, his eyes dark and haunted, his face troubled. "I… I can't tell you tonight. Later, someday. When more time has gone by."

Knives felt the pounding in his head slowly recede as the doctor sipped at his tea. Somehow, he had been standing at a precipice, with the edge eating its way toward him. He could have fallen into the dark void and been lost. Lost into what was unknown to him.

He heard the doctor whisper to himself, probably not realizing that Knives could hear him, "Although some things can't be healed by time."

Knives took a gulp of his drink, swallowing the bitter, but sweet, flavor without any awareness. His eyes were still on the doctor. Suffice it to say, Conrad had taken care of him, nurtured him, mentored him, gave him stability, and had taken him under his wing patiently encouraging him in the healing process. However, the doctor was afraid. He could feel it as much as he could feel the heat from the camp ring. The doctor was afraid of the person Knives had once been, and Knives too, was afraid of that person. The one true question was why had Conrad called him 'son'?

Knives massaged his fingers in a circular motion and felt the thundering of his pulse beginning to calm and the ache in his temples receding. With a start, he realized the doctor had been talking for a while. He looked up to see Conrad's eyes fixed on him, with a half-smile on his face.

"Back to the matter at hand. The issue is this, where are we going to drop those girls off? It has to be a safe enough place so your brother doesn't find them."

"Right," agreed Knives, relieved to be talking about something that didn't make his head hurt.

"Unfortunately doctor, I can't think of anything that won't leave them open to attack or kidnapping. If he is following or even ahead of us, he is bound to find them no matter what town we leave them behind in... And maybe you haven't noticed, but that small one has a penchant for sticking her nose into everywhere under the sun's that it is not supposed to be!" He ended on that last with some heat. She was tenacious, a veritable human bulldog. She was a headache on two legs.

"Meryl, Knives, her name is Meryl."

"I know what her name is!" He snapped, temper flaring.

"Refusing to call her by name will not make your dilemma disappear."

Knives eyed the doctor suspiciously. "What dilemma."

"The fact that, for the most part, the men in this camp are attracted to them, especially since they are deprived already... and a little off-kilter if you ask me." Conrad tugged on an earlobe before going on, "I don't know if you are aware of the influence they have been having..."

"Doctor! I am not going to just drop them off, I thought I made myself plain on that point." Unaware, Knives' eyes began to glow an eerie blue.

Conrad waved a negating hand, "No, no, I wouldn't dream of that. What I am saying is that the men have been acting... strangely around them, like men do when there are a couple of beautiful women around and they haven't seen anything female in years." He eyed the plant, one brow lifting in question.

Knives swished his coffee around as he stared down into the mug, deep in thought. "Well, I will talk with the men..."

"It's not them I am most concerned about."

"What now William? Sometimes I think... that... you..." Knives happened to look up at that point and caught the look fastened on him and his tongue stumbled to a halt. Knives turned his head to stare at the manufactured dull glow the campfire heat ring produced.

"Yes, I am worried about you."

"Why?"

"Do you remember anything at all from before July?" Conrad decided to take a risk, rash though it was.

The doctor's unexpected change of conversation puzzled Knives but he shook his head, replying, "You know I don't." He wondered if now was when he was going to find out his life was like before. He knew he had been a horrible, cruel person; that much any idiot could figure out. However, he never knew if had had a family outside of his brother. Had he a wife, children, even a mistress? He lowered his head into a hand. It could be worse, he could find out he was celibate like the religious sect resolutely following him around. What next?

"You are not exactly experienced when it comes to women."

"Oh hell no!" Just what he didn't want to hear and Knives whipped his head up to glare at the doctor. Being a very private... well, being, this wasn't the kind of discussion he wanted to have with anyone, even the doctor, one of the few people on the planet who knew him best. And it also wasn't the kind of news a man was overjoyed to hear. The evening was getting more dismal every time the doctor opened his mouth. So much for a pleasant end-of-the-day conversation by the heat ring!

"Getting attached to a woman right now is not in her best interests or yours. You know it could be dangerous for her too, _especially _at this point in time with things heating up between you and..."

"Thanks for the news flash," came the sarcastic retort, cutting in on Conrad's statement.

"Besides," the doctor went on as if he hadn't heard, "I have no idea of what a plant-human union would produce," he ran a hand over a cheek, scrubbing at it as he deliberated, "Could life be created between the two? Would it be harmful for the human female to carry a plant-human offspring? No one knows for sure as the question was brought up of course, but there just simple wasn't time to delve into..."

Knives stared, shocked beyond measure before ordering, "Stop! We will talk about this later, not now!" He pinned the doctor with a hard stare. _No wonder he called me 'Son,' that's how they always start the 'birds and sandworm speech', isn't it? _Knives fumed inwardly.

Conrad wasn't happy about it; lips creased in disapproval, but finally sighed and nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed and remorseful. In the momentary throes of scientific speculation he forgot to take into account that the whole subject was rather personal to a certain plant sitting across from him.

"I extend my heartfelt apologies Knives, but this is a matter for some concern."

"I don't think it is a _matter _for anyone to be concerned about except for those involved." Knives insisted, but found he couldn't bring himself to get more personal than that, and renewed his frosty-eyed glare at the doctor. "End of discussion."

"For now," muttered the doctor under his breath, knowing full well that Knives would hear it.

Conrad decided it was time to head for his tent when Knives tensed, eyes starting to glow that dangerous blue again. Whipping his head around Knives eyes seemed to pierce the darkness at the edge of the camp. Conrad cast his companion another glance before leaning to the side to look over the plant's shoulder, but he didn't see anything to cause alarm. Suddenly a bright glow lit up at the far end, outlining a huge bulk of a man striding toward them.

A deep, sonorous voice called from the dark as a tall man wearing white strolled arrogantly toward them, glowing like the neon lights of the main drag of a big city lit up at night. "Going to bed so soon Doctor Conrad? The night has only begun to sparkle, don't you think?"

Conrad snapped his mouth shut and automatically rose to his feet as his former patient came to a halt several yarz away, more to let the two men study him and realize he wasn't a threat. To prove his point, he lifted his arms up in an insolent gesture to let them look him over. Then with a mocking smile, he lowered his hands to his side.

Knives ignored him and pointedly looked around him to the darkness behind. A rumbling chuckle issued out of the big man's mouth and glancing back he ordered, "Boys, go on back to camp, I'm just here to visit with the neighbors."

"But Boss," a higher-pitched voice started to protest before someone grabbed him and dragged him away. Conrad listened but he couldn't hear even the faintest noise of a motor engine to indicate the gang had left.

Knives relaxed in his seat, sending a wary glance at newcomer. It was hard to look at him for any length of time with the glow of his suit. His glow could easily rival that of the most popular gambling arcade. Knives squinted against the harsh artificial light, holding his hand up to shade his eyes.

"Sorry gents, I'll dim my bright radiance for you, don't want to drop in unannounced and be rude." Knives could tell there was a double message laced in those words but decided to hold his tongue. Immediately the glow shut off and for a second it appeared as if the man had simply disappeared leaving a dark hole in the night. That is, until the crunch of footsteps grew closer and Knives blinked his eyes, forcing his peculiar biology to compensate, which it did. Conrad on the other hand, had to blink several more times while waiting for his eyes to adjust. By then, the giant of a man loomed over them, even though he was still several yarz away.

"Neon," the doctor spoke, his voice smooth and as if this kind of thing happened every night. "Do pull up a stool and join us for a cup of tea."

"Tea? That ain't a drink for men, doc. Whiskey would be just the thing for an auspicious occasion such as this." The man the doctor referred to as 'Neon' stepped closer and stopped to study the stool with an amused look the doctor pulled closer to the ring. With a grin he gestured at it and said, "Doc, that little contraption won't hold me." He turned and walked a few yarz away, bent and came back carrying a small-sized boulder. He dropped it and then settled his bulk on the rock, resting his hands on his knees. One glinting eye peered out from under the sharp edges of his hat as he informed them, "Ah, now that's more like it."

Knives was impressed, despite himself. Conrad sighed in resignation. Neon was still the same as when he had found him and saved his life after July by altering his body which had been burned and nearly torn to shreds; and was iles away when it happened! The man hadn't even looked human when Conrad found him, barely hanging onto the spark of life. That was what he had told Neon back then after the first of the surgeries. It was the phrase that the near-dead man had latched onto and would be heard whispering in his lucid moments.

Curiosity flaring, Knives asked, "Aren't you concerned about being picked off as an easy target?" He pointed to the rigging sewn into Neon's clothes which had been glowing so brightly just moments before.

Neon reached up with a finger and pushed up the brim of his hat. A gleam danced in his dark eyes from the dim light being given off by the heat ring on the ground. Knives had seen eyes like that before, the kind that held no fear of anything, for everything that could cause him fear was already ripped from him. The only thing a man like this feared was the threat of living on, bereft of everything, or the one, that brought any meaning to life. He wondered what his story was but knew better than to ask.

"What a thing to ask a guest. You got any notions to do just that I wonder?" Then he shrugged and one massive shoulder moved like a mountain shifting. "But yes, it does happen, quite a bit actually. There is a bounty on my head," he said it matter-of-factly, not a trace of concern showing on his face, and spoke quietly as if to himself, "Light, I don't seem to get enough of it." Then turning his attention toward them again, he gave them a crooked grin, and said, "So, want to explain what you are doing in my territory?"

Conrad was watching Neon, evaluating his former patient and shifted uneasily. It was obvious Neon had made a brilliant physical recovery and adjusted satisfactorily to the modifications, but his mental state was still suspect. There wasn't anything he could do about that though. He did the only thing he could think of, he left to go and dig into the cook's whiskey. The other two men spoke on as if they didn't even notice him leaving and returning with a half-empty bottle. Not even asking, Conrad walked over and handed Neon a glass and then filled it until it nearly reached the lip of the glass.

The tall man, even seated was nearly eye to eye with the doctor. For a moment those dark eyes held the doctor's with an intensity that he didn't understand. "Much appreciated, Doc." Conrad turned toward Knives, doing the same for him since he placed his empty mug of coffee by his feet. Then the doctor sat down on his own stool, wondering if he was being thanked for something other than the drink.

"Right good stuff Doc."

Knives also caught the look and glanced over in puzzlement to the doctor who dropped his eyes. He knew there was some tie between the two; he just didn't know what it was. He would ask later and get answers, but for now he wanted to get the outlaw's permission to travel through Bad Lad territory. No one would dare follow them unless they were fools. A sour taste formed in his mouth and he took a quick sip of whiskey to cleanse his mouth before he spoke up.

"I was going to approach you tomorrow, but now that you are here I can place the request before you. Would you give us your permission to travel through your lands? I won't try and deceive you, we are asking so we can lose some unpleasant folk on our tail."

Neon sat quietly, studying Knives face, then he looked over at the doctor who matched him gaze for gaze.

"You owe me Doc. You forced me into an existence where no light exists. I should extinguish yours for that..."

Knives tensed, ready to leap at the big man if he needed to, but Neon tilted his head back to stare at the moons. "Reflected light, that's what I have to live with. What a prison sentence you have laid on me. It's almost too much too bear."

Lowering his head to face the two rigid forms seeming to hold their collective breaths, he laughed soundlessly. Knives shot a questioning look over at Conrad to see his reaction, but the doctor met his eyes only to give him a miniscule shrug. He was in the dark as much as Knives.

"Well, I am leveling this burden on the both of you as I see your lives are full of trouble, misery and pain." Sharp features turned back to them and he grinned without mirth. "You have permission to travel my lands. Except for him, if he destroyed Lost July." He lifted a fingerless-gloved hand to point at Knives.

The silence was heavy between them as Conrad and Knives caught their breath. This was an unwelcome and unpleasant surprise. Conrad desperately cast about for something to say, but Neon beat him to it.

The huge man's features seemed to alter in the bare light of the camp. Both men held their breath as the force of hate-filled eyes slammed against them like a physical blow. In a voice that made his words almost indiscernible, he growled, "**_Are _**you him? The slayer of Lost July?" Suddenly the large man seemed to fill the space, a growing colossus from the sheer vigor of hate, fury, and the long wait for revenge. His face appeared wolf-like in the low illumination given off between them.

Conrad couldn't move; he could only stare at Neon as fear rose, leaving a sour metallic taste in his mouth. Knives appeared unaffected, sitting loose and easy on his stool staring down at the bottom of his glass, lost in thought. Finally he lifted tear-stained eyes and the doctor knew he was going to accept partial blame for what happened in July even if he didn't remember his part, or if he even had a part. Conrad had to stop him.

"No, it is his twin you should be blaming." It took every ounce of courage but he would, he had to, protect Knives, even if it meant protecting the plant from his recently acquired sense of honesty and integrity.

Neon stared holes through the doctor who was meeting his gaze and not backing down. He went on, "Not this man, he was a victim too. No, it was Vash the Stampede who caused that tragedy, and if you want someone to blame, he is the one to set your sights on. This is Knives." With a start of recollection, the doctor realized that Neon had come into camp believing that it was the Humanoid Typhoon who was sitting at the campfire ring with him. He never did inquire what Knives name was.

The big man's eyes jumped to Knives, considering, weighing the man before him before letting snort of disgust explode from his nostrils.

Then, like a great bear shaking himself, Neon tossed back the rest of his drink in one quick gulp, licked his lips and tossed the empty glass to the doctor who caught it by reflex, and numbly set it down by his stool. The outlaw focused his attention on the two men before him as he considered. The wolf-like aspect vanished from his face as if it had never been there to be replaced by a knowing half-grin spreading across his lips as he regarded the wary stares coming his way.

"You can tell your men to come out; those two standing security detail on either side keeping an ever-so observant eye on me." He paused for a heartbeat before going on, "The brightest lights are always the most carefully watched."

Neither Knives nor Conrad were surprised to hear his news, although the doctor wished he would stop using the light metaphors. He sighed and his eyes went to where he knew the boys were standing. The boys were constantly with them and he had grown so used to their following Knives around that he took their presence for granted. They had already proven their worth and knew how to keep his and Knives' secrets.

Knives held the eyes of Neon, whose lips twitched in amusement as he sat waiting. Knives nodded and Conrad called, "Come on out and join us boys."

At first there wasn't a movement until finally a large shadow pulled away from the others and into the dim light stepped the large, broad-shouldered form of Livio. Wearing his usual black suit, the only part of him that caught the light was the wild length of his white hair. Not speaking, he turned unfriendly eyes upon Neon, letting his half-skull mask speak for him. The only response were the eyes of the visitor running briefly over his form looking for and finding his weapons, two crosses belted to his forearms. Livio didn't trust the man in the white suit and let the tightness in his face convey that message.

"Nicholas," said Conrad, his eyes closing for a moment. Of the two of them, the priest, though tall for a human male but shorter than the intimidating height tall of Livio, was the more difficult of the pair.

Reluctantly, another dark-suited figure stepped out into the shadows and slowly made his way to the small circle. He showed neither friendliness nor hostility, only the shine of hooded gray eyes keeping a circumspect eye on the scene.

"Yeah?" He said with indifference, his cross dangling from its strap over his shoulder and one hand shoved in his pocket as if he was out for a mere evening stroll.

Conrad couldn't help but shake his head. The boy had no manners to speak of, except for rude ones which he seemed to excel in.

"Nicholas, Livio, this is Brilliant Dynamites Neon. Neon for short." Conrad then hooked a thumb at the two as he turned to Neon. "These are Livio, the big fellow there with the... er, interesting... uh, mask, and the other is..."

"Wolfwood. Nicholas D. Wolfwood." The priest looked down at the doctor, mentally bracing for a scolding but when he didn't receive it, he turned back to the outlaw, saying, "Hiya."

The doctor and Knives both had seen the reaction though. The huge outlaw had paled and his dark eyes grew haunted, glinting wildly for a fraction of a second before he quickly recovered. Slowly Neon rose to his feet, ignoring the straightening of the two men and their tense stances. They watched as conflicting emotions chased across his face until it froze. After a few tense seconds he came to an inner decision finally acknowledged the men across from him.

With an expansive gesture he swept his arm to the open plains, "Be my guest. You have safe traveling, and here is my marker to prove it." Reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket he pulled out a thin rod and tossed it to Knives who easily plucked it out of the air.

His eyes widened as he held it up and he couldn't help remarking, "It's just a glow stick!" It had the appearance of an ordinary glow stick that when snapped in half and shaken emitted a steady glow for an hour or many hours depending on the size of the stick. With disbelieving eyes he looked up at Neon, still holding the stick between a thumb and finger.

The wolf-eyed look had returned to the outlaw's face and his eyes were hard to see under the brim of his sharp-pointed hat. "If anyone tries to stop you, shake it four times and only four times; not less, not more, and it will give off my signature glow. It will prove that you have my..." here he hesitated for a second, and a wry, self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "blessing to pass through unharmed."

"Thank you Neon, that is decent of you..."

"Not really," Neon interrupted Conrad with piercing look, "I hated you for giving me the one thing I didn't want. Nothing has changed so don't come back this way again." With a grace that belied his great bulk, the large man rose to his feet, looming over the two. "Do, and I will kill you." Upon saying that he turned and walked out of the camp.

* * *

**Buried Light**

**Stardate: 10-02-0110-01:35**

A large shadow slowly lowered to its knees in front of a white stone marker that glowed in the light of five moons. Other than that there was no form of illumination, yet the owner of the shadow knew exactly where to reach so his fingers touch and gently trace the etchings carved into the stone.

"He didn't recognize me, Janelle, but then, he was only a small kid at the time. You remember. That little brat of your sister's who bit my finger when I held him." He paused a moment and then finished with, "By the way, although you may not want to hear this, he's still a brat."

The fingers traced the words carved deep to withstand the wreck and ruin of time. He couldn't see it, but then he didn't need to, he knew it by heart. The words were etched on his heart and soul for all time:

"Rest in the arms of the angels,

I will miss you until time unfolds"

Here rests what remains of my heart

Janelle (Wolfwood)

wife of

Brian

Duncan

Newkirk

Lost July victim

"I will never forget"

* * *

**The Next Morning**

"Why do you suppose he let us travel through his territory, eh Nicholas?" Livio asked as he lifted and shoved a chest into the back of their truck. "He's not known for charity you know. People who wander in don't usually wander out again." He secured the chest with straps and looked over at his friend who shrugged. He wasn't in a talkative mood for a change and it appeared that Livio was. Livio wasn't much of a talker but he was a thinker who didn't mind waiting for answers. Nicholas sighed and knew he would be out-waited and so, with a snort of ill-grace, gave in. Leaning back against the truck bed he reached into his pocked for a cigarette and cursed when he remembered he had run out the day before.

Finally, he turned shadowed gray eyes to his friend and answered, "Beats me, but nutcases like him make me glad I'm an orphan. Can you imagine having a loon like that showing up for the family Christmas dinner? Sure wouldn't need any lights on the tree with him around." Livio grinned in response, like Wolfwood knew he would, but also shook his head even as something ancient, and dead inside scratching to come to the surface but he forced it back down where he kept things remembered and most things that weren't. The outlaw known as BDN had bothered the hell out of him and he was just relieved that they would be leaving soon, putting this area behind them. Especially since he needed to find someplace to buy smokes.


	20. CH 19 May City

_I cannot believe it's almost been a year since we posted a chapter…I'm sure all of our fans have probably given up on us…but in the slim hope that perhaps you haven't, and or you're interested in reading this story from the beginning since you're looking for something awesome – well, then be our guest! Thanks to AineofKnockaine, Erin, Hopeis4Ever, and all of our other fans who have commented in the past…yes, we ARE going to see if we can't get this story finished after all of this time! MillyT and Dwellin_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"

* * *

_

**Chapter 19**

**May City**

**[Stardate: 10-15-0110-15:15**

There was a slight chill to the air that afternoon as Meryl walked down the sidewalk to the post office. Soon it would be wintertime, and even on an arid planet such as theirs, winters could be very cold. She pulled her cloak tight with her left hand and glanced down at the manila envelope in her other. This package contained all of the information she had gathered about Vash the Stampede. It had been over a month since she and Milly started traveling with the Eye of Michael, and, during this period, she had learned much.

With a sigh, she turned over the envelope. Although she had written a novel's worth of information, it still was not enough. There was something missing. Some clue or piece of evidence that she couldn't put her finger on even after all this time. Maybe she was too distracted by the man they called the Humanoid Typhoon. She huffed out a breath of air that stirred the bangs on her forehead. In fact, she was sure of it. One thing Meryl was not, and that was self-delusional. The last few weeks she had spent all of her waking hours avoiding him. The time she spent in his company was shadowed now by the time she spent holed up in her tent, or in the back of one of the trucks, saying it was because she needed privacy and space in which to work on her reports. Bernadelli's administrative secretary must be wondering why they were receiving reports in triplicate. Meryl shrugged, they could yell about waste of paper later, afterwards, when the job was completed.

Her mind circled back around to Vash. He didn't seem to mind, although at first he had put up a slight argument. Meryl was crestfallen he didn't offer up more resistance. She really hoped he would have said 'no, stay near me, it's too dangerous', or _something _along those lines. Anything to have convinced her that the kiss wasn't just another instance of his womanizing ways. No… Instead, it was looking like what it was, a simple kiss; with no deeper meaning attached to it. Nevertheless Meryl felt flustered thinking about it. Her cheeks were painted a light crimson as she walked down the street to the post office. With a noise of annoyance in the back of her throat she shook her head as if that was enough to dislodge disquieting thoughts.

Looking around her at the scenery, it was quite odd to suddenly be in a city again. Almost as if the month of travels had merely been a passing dream. And now she was in civilization once more. Here there were people who weren't crusty old men or the dreamy outlaw types she had gotten so use to, the latter, she couldn't stop thinking of even now. It wouldn't be long before she would return to the camp, however, at the moment, she enjoyed seeing _normal_ people walking by on the way to do errands, or going home from work for a late lunch, or perhaps just sitting playing a game of checkers in front of the general store. The two older gentlemen looked up from their game at her passing and she gave them a brief smile and a nod of greeting.

Normal. It was all so ordinarily normal that Meryl had to stop and just take it all in. Her eyes roamed the streets, the buildings and especially the women. There were sweethearts and mothers either walking arm in arm with boyfriends, or pulling along a child or two in their wake. There was not one toting a gun or looking particularly dangerous. The serenity of the sight caused a small sigh to escape her lips as she watched and wondered if perhaps the other insurance agents had been right after all. Maybe women weren't cut out for Risk Prevention… _No,_ Meryl thought, _nothing has happened since I joined this group, so that means we're doing our job right._ She smiled to herself, surely Bernadelli himself would give them a commendation for doing a good job, maybe even give them a raise! She glanced down at the envelope, especially with the information clutched firmly in her hand. With a confident frame of mind, she started up again, this time with a slight bounce in her footsteps

Meryl was still smiling as she walked into the post office with the envelope, and heading to the counter, she never noticed the wanted poster hanging on the wall behind her that read, _Vash the Stampede Slaughters Woman in Hawthorne Village, Reward $$50,000,000 for information leading to arrest._ However, what Meryl _did_ see, was a small flyer on the counter as she handed over the envelope to the teller. "What's this?"

Upon the flyer stated, "Quick Draw Tournament". Intrigued, Meryl licked her lips as she picked it up and noticed the date of the contest was two days away. The teller smiled as he stamped the package, "You know someone who's a sharp shooter there, Miss? The October tournament welcomes only hand guns, unlike the March competition which allows all small arms." He walked the package over to the outgoing mail slot and tipped it in. "The winner gets $$100,000."

"Where do you go to sign up?" Meryl asked, folding up the flyer before slipping it into a pocket in her cape right next to her derringers

"The Mayor's office. So you _do_ know someone eh? Boyfriend maybe?"

Meryl gave him a very peculiar smile. "Nope, don't have one. But I sure could use the money to buy a new Prada bag." She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving the teller scratching his head.

He looked over his shoulder to where his co-worker sat, "You think that little slip of a thing is gonna compete?"

* * *

**Puppy Love**

Milly peered out into the bright sunshine. Even though the suns beat down on the sand heavily in the southern region this time of year, it wasn't unpleasant. Although, any time of year, to walk outside without protection would mean a person could easily melt or burn, or something equally as horrible. She remembered the first time she ran outside to play without a jacket on as a child, how red she became within a few hours, and just how miserable she was for the next two weeks as her skin blistered and peeled. Never again did she go outside without at least one layer of clothing on, two were better. Milly had always been jealous of darker skinned people, like Mr. Priest, who could easily go hours in the hot sunshine without a shirt on to no ill effect.

Today, her long duster hung out on the laundry after washing the dirt out of it for the first time since they started their trip. Her white shirt was grimy and the armpits were starting to yellow from abuse, but she wore it anyway. What did it matter really, they traveled with a dozen men, all of whom dealt with the same problems, all of whom were priests, well, mostly, and weren't even supposed to look at her like she was a girl anyway. So why bother acting like a girl?

Still, it did bother her, and she kept her arms down as she walked out of the tent into the hot sunshine to check on the toma. It wouldn't be long and she'd have to sell them. Especially since the cost of upkeep outweighed the cost of bus fare for the rest of the trip. She doubted Meryl would let them keep the toma now that they were traveling with the priests, but luckily her mount was producing eggs nearly every morning and it was helpful to the camp. Nothing like a bird that could lay eggs the size of your head! Those three-egg omelets could easily feed the entire camp! She smiled as her Lucy gurgled and squawked when she came up to pet her. The toma was instantly happy with a little scratch under the ear and a little rub down of the back and sides.

But as Milly looked her over, she realized that Lucy was already groomed for the day, her mane was smooth like corn silk and no dust mites clung to her under carriage. _Livio,_ Milly thought appreciatively of the big man, _He must have taken care of you already._ Sure enough, when she turned around to go over to Meryl's mount, Livio was headed over to her with two buckets of water.

"Good afternoon Miss Milly," he said slowly, his eyes calm, down-turned with that shyness he had displayed in front of her from the very beginning. She wondered why such a big scary man who wore that horrible skull mask could ever be as shy as this. Especially now that they had been traveling together for such a long time.

In fact, Milly had gotten to know both Livio and Nicholas so well now that she called them by their first names when Mr. Vash or Meryl wasn't around. For some reason she'd gotten into the habit of considering them friends instead of mere traveling companions. But didn't Big Sis say that taking a trip with someone made them family? Milly was constantly reminded of her older brothers when she was around the boys. They made her feel at home, even when she knew she was farther from home than she had ever been in her life. Although, perhaps if she didn't get this odd feeling in her tummy any time they were around Milly would have felt more free to talk to them whenever the opportunity came her way. As it was, she rarely sought them out. Normally Milly waited patiently for one of her appointed bodyguards to make an appearance, and then she'd talk up a storm.

Today seemed to be one of those rare occurrences when they _weren't_ keeping an eye on her every move. Meryl was in town doing errands; Wolfwood had gone off to do something for Dr. Conrad, Mr. Vash had thankfully disappeared: he gave Milly the creepies when he was around most of the time, and here was Livio, doing chores.

"Lucy and Harriet are doing fine," he said after a moment, giving the birds their water, which they slurped loudly and splashed around with.

"Yes, I can see that," Milly responded with a pleased smile. "You take such good care of them, I was wondering if I shouldn't just give them to you."

Livio's eyes went wide, "Oh no, I couldn't…"

Milly laughed musically and Livio turned his head. This girl… She always treated him exactly like a human being no matter how scary he looked or acted. He couldn't look at her for long, that was something Nicholas could do, not him… Livio wondered if Jasmine might ever treat him the same way someday… He sighed internally, realizing suddenly that there was a pair of blue eyes peering up into his own. Livio jumped, startled.

"You okay?" Milly asked, concerned. Livio had zoned out for a moment.

"I'm fine…" He trailed off, making to leave her alone, but Milly jumped in front of him.

"You don't look it… you've got a look of… puppy love on your face."

Livio put his hands to his face, "I do? Where?"

Laughing again, Milly shook her head, "All over it! Who are you thinking about Livio?"

"No one…"

"I'm sure it's not no one, she has a name right?" Milly kept her eyes on him, not allowing him take his yellow eyes off of her. There was something inside of her very being that knew this guy was not as scary as he looked on the outside. And now she had a feeling she knew what it was that told her so. But without a name she couldn't help him, could she? Such a sweet man. She put her hand on his shoulder and his gaze broke from hers to look at it. "Tell me who it is and maybe I can help you hook her! I've done it a hundred times!"

Livio swallowed, and started to open his mouth when someone beat him to it. "Her name is Jasmine," Wolfwood said from nearby. Milly and Livio turned to look at him, startled at his sudden appearance. "The big guy here saved her life when we were younger."

"You did? How brave!" Milly turned to face Nicholas, wanting to hear more of the story. "How'd it happen? Did you get hurt?"

Nicholas laughed, "She fell on him, but both she and the puppy were safe…" His smile faded suddenly as Livio's eyes went wide with the memory. _Oh yeah, the puppy,_ Wolfwood swallowed. Might just have to take Livio to visit the Doc later that afternoon… "Anyway," he added quickly before things degraded, "He's been pining over her since he left nearly three and a half years ago."

"That's so sweet!" The big girl was smiling from ear to ear. "Childhood romance! I wish I had someone like that to think about!" She sighed happily for Livio. Milly could tell he was blushing, even under the mask that hid half of his face. He was a real cute guy as far as she could tell. A regular teddy bear under that scary exterior. "Have you told her what you think of her?"

"I can't," Livio replied darkly. He turned, "She'd never accept it…"

"Podsquaddle," Milly spat. Wolfwood and Livio turned and looked at her. Nicholas' eyes were shining in amusement.

"That's a new one on me…"

"If you love a girl you should tell her immediately that you like her because she might just love you back. Then you won't have to wait until you're old and gray and regretting it! If she doesn't love you back then you can just stop loving her before it gets too late, or perhaps she'll realize she really _did_ love you and then you'll both be happy." Milly stuck her hands in her pants' pockets and rocked back and forth on her heals. She really did love giving lectures on love and happiness. Her sisters still wrote her years later after they were married for words of advice from their little matchmaker. "I've seen too many people pass their lives away without anyone to love them and they were so miserable! You don't want to be miserable do you?"

Livio shook his head, "No…" He put his fingers to the left side of his face, "But…"

Nicholas sighed, "It is a wee bit more complicated than that I'm afraid…" When he glanced at Milly's expression though, he could tell that she was in an extremely good mood that wouldn't understand the fact that Jasmine would never recognize Livio if she saw him, plus their orphanage was under constant surveillance and going back there would be a grave mistake. No, it was best not to explain the details to the cheerful big insurance girl; it would only make things worse. _She'd probably want to get involved,_ Nicholas thought to himself with amusement.

"Although ya should take that stupid mask off," Nicholas said under his breath, as he absently fell back into speech patterns of his childhood, his accent slipping easily into place when he was teasing, hoping to keep the conversation on a good note. "Ya shouldn'ta put it on in the first place. Ya wouldn't even be able ta get a girl even if ya wanted to." Livio glared at him and Nick glared right back. Milly watched them and giggled.

But slowly, Livio reached up with both hands and unfastened the skull mask and pulled it off his face. Milly's eyes lit up, and at first he started to put the mask back on thinking she'd been afraid but Milly scrambled to grab the skull away from him. She got it from his hands, tossed it to Wolfwood and said, "Here! Get rid of it!"

"No!" Livio yelled, lunging for Nicholas only to find the priest take one mighty heave and the skull mask flew a long ways out into the desert, hit with a puff of smoke and shattered into pieces. "Why did you do that!?" Livio screamed, putting his hands to his face.

Milly reached up and pulled his hands away gently, "You're so handsome!" She knew he could have easily kept her from doing so, but the surprise that registered on his face told her it was something he had wanted to hear for a while. Everyone wanted to be told they were attractive. Didn't matter whether it was a girl or a guy, it always cheered someone up to hear it.

"What?"

Nicholas nodded as Livio looked at him for help. "I've been telling you for years that you'd get the girls…"

"But…" Livio looked at Milly. Underneath where his mask used to be was a complex design of blue tattoos around his left eye. They looked like lightning bolts, jagging up over his eye, below, and off toward his ear… Well, _had_ there been an ear there. His ear was used as a port for all of the mechanics within his body; the ear itself was gone and replaced by various plugs and wires, covered with a small plastic dome. There was also very little hair on the left side of his head, he kept it shaved to prevent the mask from chafing. He regretted it all now, but at the time he had allowed Razlo to take over, and in the years where the demon controlled him, he had gone through change after change. Sometimes he thought that if he had not met Doctor Conrad, he would have no longer been human.

"You aren't scared?"

Milly tilted her head to the side; her hands were still around his wrists, keeping them from covering up his face. "Why should I be? You're really a cutie. Almost makes me jealous of Jasmine." She smiled, her eyes closed with pleasure, and then she opened them again and shook Livio's wrists. "Now, I don't want you _ever_ think you're scary again, you got that?"

Wolfwood laughed, "Wait until Knives…" He stopped talking suddenly, swallowed and waited for Milly to say something, but she didn't seem to be paying attention. With a sigh, he said, "I think no better words have ever been spoken to you Livio, even the Doc hasn't given you better advice." Nicholas shook his head in wonderment. He wished Milly would call _him_ handsome… In fact, he was wishing she'd even look at him at this moment, but her eyes were only on Livio and his little love problems. _Damn,_ Wolfwood thought to himself. _I'm in the wrong line of work!

* * *

_

**Quick Draw Tournament**

**[Stardate: 10-17-0110-12:00**

Up at the crack of dawn, Meryl had all of her derringers cleaned, oiled, loaded and strapped into her cape while at the same time, making sure no one caught her doing it. Today was the official start of the Quick Draw Tournament. She hadn't told Milly, nor anyone else that she had entered into the contest, simply filled out the entry form at the Mayor's office and then slipped back into her normal routine in the camp. Apparently Mr. Vash had decided to leave the camp parked where it was for another day which gave her the necessary time to win the tournament and still have some time to go shopping before they started moving again.

She doubted that anyone suspected the reason she was gone from the camp for chunks at a time was to go practice her derringers at a shooting range. Nor did they suspect little ole her to enter into such a dangerous burly man contest. No one even commented when she refused her normal coffee for breakfast in order to avoid the possible shakes the caffeine would have given her hands when she needed them to be steady. She was sure Mr. Vash would have noticed, but luckily for her he was up earlier that morning and was already finished with breakfast. Milly had volunteered to mend the priest's clothing that afternoon after she'd spent the entire day before cleaning every stitch of clothing and sending everyone into town for baths. It wasn't a request. Soon, the entire camp smelled a whole lot fresher and less offensive to the nose. Meryl was pleased with Milly's progress; except for the fact that the big girl said she hadn't been able to find Mr. Vash in order to confront him about the cleanliness issue.

Come to think of it, Meryl hadn't seen him either. Of course she had been avoiding him, but at least she usually got a few glimpses of him during the day, here and there around the camp, ordering around his servants, conversing with Dr. Conrad, or having an afternoon coffee break. Since they had arrived in May City however, there had been no sign of him or the doctor. Only the priests, even that creepy Chapel made an appearance every so often, his wheel chair slipping in between the tents. He could easily sneak up on people, and then wait in that brooding manner of his until they turned around and noticed him there. Worse, was the spine-chilling look he would bestow on others, which was devoid of all warmth or humor. The only one he couldn't surprise with his unannounced appearance was Vash. Even Dr. Conrad got spooked by the paraplegic a time or two. Needless to say, she and Milly were not big fans of the chair-bound priest and he made it obvious that he didn't care much for the two ladies traveling with them. Milly summed it up best; "He is scary just sitting there staring at you with those desert-empty eyes." Meryl wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but it conveyed the way she felt about him too. After saying that, Milly shivered and by unspoken agreement, both women dropped the subject

On further reflection, Meryl realized that had seen very little of Vash since the day Conrad came in and urged him out of the dinner tent for some problem. Casting one last glance over her shoulder to make sure that her leaving wasn't being noticed, Meryl left the camp to head to the tournament. Frowning, it occurred to her then, that she had been so preoccupied with her mixed up feelings for the Humanoid Typhoon, she really hadn't been doing her job very well! Well, yes, reports were in order, that aspect of the job wasn't being affected, but the whole surveillance part had been neglected of late. In fact, the object of the assignment could have simply slipped away days ago and she might never have noticed it! Meryl felt the stirrings of discontent in her stomach and she pulled her cape tighter around her as she walked. Maybe she _should_ have told someone where she was going. What if Mr. Vash and Dr Conrad had left her and Milly alone with the Eye of Michael, only to slip away and make a run for it? Perhaps Mr. Wolfwood and Mr. Livio had been left behind to distract them… _No, he wouldn't have just left his men here all this time, it doesn't make any sense. Especially after how worried he was about us being followed! Vash would have taken his bodyguards with him, right?_

Meryl nodded to herself and walked through the city with her head up, unconsciously alert for any sign of trouble before she caught herself at it. This job was starting to get to her. Now was not the time to be worrying about Mr. Vash or any danger to him. She had an award to win and shopping to do before she was stuck with those dirty old men again. If all went well she'd even buy Milly something nice, perhaps even feminine since Milly had a habit of always dressing like an old man. _Yes, maybe even take her to the beauty salon before we leave as a reward for getting the stinking half of the camp cleaned up._

As Meryl breezed through the city streets, she turned the corner heading toward the competition and saw a gathering crowd abuzz with activity. Every soul in the city was here it seemed. There were vending stands, balloons, tables with merchants hawking wares, streamers, children racing by yelling at the top of their lungs, and all sorts of people talking and laughing excitedly, the city was packed. Meryl felt a swell of excitement. She was really going to be competing! Wouldn't her father be proud of her? Of all of the Bernadelli's employees, Meryl was one of the highest-ranking sharpshooters of her class, in the small handgun department that is. Meryl had not only received the special gun cape for her skills, but the derringers had been specially designed and calibrated for her hands alone. Her father had taught her to shoot at an early age, and if the target was anywhere in range, she couldn't miss.

Spotting a tent at the far edge of the town at the end of the street with a sign above it reading "Sign-In", she made for it, walking with confidence past women, men, and children, and stepped up to the table where one of the mayor's aids was tapping a pencil against the tabletop, and from what she could see of his face, an irritated expression rested there. She coughed softly to get his attention, and he lifted his head lazily and then looked around, "Sorry, we don't let family members check in for anyone, he'll have to come here himself or he'll be disqualified…"

"_I'm _the one signed up for the tournament," Meryl stated, giving him a stern look, daring him to contradict her.

The man squinted at her. "You're awfully pretty for a boy."

"That's because I'm a girl… ahem, a _woman_, and if you look down your list you'll see my name is on there, as Meryl Stryfe." Meryl leaned forward and stabbed a finger down at the paper where her name was listed. The aid rolled his eyes, but coughed as he saw that sure enough her name _was_ neatly typed there. It was right below someone with the last name of "Stampede".

Eyes wide, he turned the page around, "You do know that you're the only woman competing right? You'll probably go down the first round." He pointed at the empty line next to her typed in name, "Sign here, it will let the announcers know you are present."

Meryl whipped out her golden pen, the one Bernadelli had given her when she first became an insurance agent and signed next to her name. She was about to say something more to the rude man when someone came and stood over her shoulder. "I'm here to sign in," he said smoothly, "Although if you are going to discriminate against women I suppose I should just take my gun elsewhere."

Blinking, Meryl smiled, "Why thank you! At least someone in this place understands that a woman can fire a gun as well as…" She turned as she was saying this and suddenly her words evaporated from her lips. She found herself staring into a man's chest before lifting her gaze to look up at his face. She blurted out indignantly, "It's YOU!"

The man scanned the tabletop innocently before finally reaching over and grabbing her pen. "Fancy," he breathed. Then he leaned past her and also signed his name, which was above hers on the sheet. "Oh? Have we met somewhere before?" A teasing quirked one side of his mouth as he handed her pen back and put his hand on his chest above his heart "Wait, we have, I know you, you're that girl from November City… The rude one. Should have figured you'd be here."

"RUDE! ME?! I think not! You! You are the rude one!" Meryl lifted a finger to point accusingly at his chest as she sputtered, her face turning red with rage and embarrassment. He had… kissed her! And she had only narrowly escaped him with Milly's help! Her eyes narrowed as she studied this, this... atrocious nuisance of a man. This time she wouldn't let him disappear on her before giving him a piece of her mind, along with the chance that she might actually get some information out of him. "You can't fool me mister! You've been following us! Now I know it for sure! What do you have to do with Vash the Stampede anyway?!"

"Yes rude. And loud. You should think of switching to tea instead of that coffee you've been drinking." He said with a grin.

Meryl was suddenly aware of a caffeine headache coming on. It was becoming painfully apparent that she shouldn't have skipped her morning coffee. Or, her mouth tightened, it could just be him.

The finger, still pointed at his chest, began to wave back and forth as she spoke. "You are the single most exasperating, irritating, womanizing bastard I have ever had the displeas..."

The stranger overrode her tirade by coughing loudly into his fist as it dawned on her that all eyes were focused on the couple. "Hey, hey, there babe, calm down and lower your voice, we certainly don't want to make a scene here now, do we?"

With that, he grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her forcefully away from prying eyes and listening ears and into a quiet tent that housed refreshments for the competitors that was, for the moment, vacant. Then he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her into a chair. "Now look, I'm here the same as you; to see if I can't make a bit of money…" With this he hooked another chair with his foot and pulled it over to sit down in front of her.

"Who the hell are you?" Meryl fumed. Right at the moment she wanted nothing more that to slap that smirk off of his face. In fact, her palm was itching to do just that. However, being the disciplined person that she was, she forced the temptation down. He wasn't fooling her. She knew this was the guy from December City, and then the sand steamer, then November… probably even the one that was out in the desert tracking Mr. Vash everywhere… He had to be a bounty hunter! Oh yes, the man had the look, no, the _stink _of a predator about him and a dangerous one at that. No doubt about it. Her eyes fell to his angle of his shoulders and chest, the long wiry arms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward on them so that he was closer than she wanted him. Despite the relaxed demeanor of his position an aura emanated from him that nearly screamed he was geared for any dangerous situation.

Her eyes lifted back to his face and she felt hers heating up. She could still remember the press of his lips in the alley… And what was it with all of these guys kissing her lately?! She wanted to pull out her derringer right then and there and shoot him in the foot. Hard to be suave, cool, and deadly when one was clutching a boot, hopping around the tent on one leg and screaming in pain. "I'm going to find out anyway when they call your name, but you can tell me now and save me the hassle."

The man laughed, it was quite a musical sound, although it had a tinge of hysteria to it. Meryl had heard men like this laugh when they were off their rockers, when they were being sent to death row, when they had stared too long into the darkness until it turned and began consuming them from the inside. He was a killer; she knew it just by looking at him in the daylight. He still had a dark presence around him like a cloud. But at the same time, he had this bumbling side to him, as if she herself made him uncomfortable. How could that be? Was it that she was a woman? Cocking her head quizzically as she tried to figure this puzzle out, before deciding no, that wasn't it, she had seen him talking to other women on the sandsteamer and he came across as quite the player. The women she had seen him chatting up were in possession of, well, assets that she, herself, was sadly lacking in. Just thinking about it was causing a swell of indignation and irritability to rise. She studied this bounty hunter again, the way his hair was spiked up straight (much like Mr. Vash's) how his dark coat was pressed and clean rather than dirty as most outlaws were set him apart from the run-of-the-mill bounty hunter. He was well shaved, wore dark red round sunglasses on his face, and a single mole under his left eye. There was even a shiny silver hoop earring in his left ear that he was tugging at now, as if trying to figure out what to say to her. That was it, he was nervous. _She _made him nervous. It was with an effort that she kept the surprise from showing on her face.

For his part, the suspected hunter realized that he knew how to impress a great deal of women, just, not _this_ woman. She was in a class all of her own. He wondered what would be the key to get her to let her guard down. Somehow he doubted that flowery compliments would to the trick. In fact, he was betting that sugar-coated words would only be met with scorn. He decided to try a different tact, but still have some fun while doing it.

"I doubt if I told you who I was that you'd believe me, so I'll save you the trouble. But you are right, I have been following you and your lovely tall partner." He grinned, leaning forward and placing his hands on her knees. Meryl shivered as his thumbs began rubbing her inner thighs, "However, it is not for the reasons you think. I have a personal vendetta against your boyfriend." He sneered, his thumbs moving higher. "Plus… I wouldn't mind finishing what we started in the alley."

She knocked his hands away with a slap before pinning him with a glare. He only chuckled at her action and settled on her knees again as she vehemently denied, "He's not my…" and then her voice trailed off suddenly the man's movements ceased entirely, and his hands lifted from her legs. Good thing for him, as one small hand was already heading for the nearest derringer. Startled by his abrupt stillness, she looked up and to see a broad hand on his shoulder clenching tight enough to make creases in the fabric. Meryl followed the hand up the arm to the face of the man who owned the arm. It was Mr. Vash!

"You will kindly release your hands from her and stand up," he said, his expression extremely dark and serious. Meryl shivered as the stranger stood up according to Mr. Vash's wishes. The tension in the air was so thick she could have cut it with a knife. Sparks were flying between these two men were so visible that she swore their eyes were glowing blue! Meryl swallowed hard and then shook her head slightly. When she looked at them again the illusion was gone, however, the stranger's hand dropped down to rest on the long black handgun strapped to his slender hips.

"How nice it is to see you again, Mr. Stampede," Mr. Vash said through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. As if mimicking the stranger's actions, Mr. Vash's fingers were wrapped around the silver gun hanging at his side.

"I wish I could say the same, but I won't."

"What are you doing here?"

"Competing of course. It's not every day someone as talented as myself gets to show off my prowess in gun…" He paused, following Vash's gaze, which was resting on Meryl. "Oh!" With a sly grin he remarked, "I should have known. You mean what was I doing with _her?_ Why just exchanging some friendly words of course. We've met before you know."

The hairs on the back of her neck were prickling so Meryl stood from her chair and for safety's sake moved around behind it, in order to keep something between her and the stranger. She felt relieved that Vash was on the scene to protect her, but at the same time she felt something very false and evil between these two men and it made her blood run cold. Was he following her too? As she stood watching them, she realized for the first time how similar they looked. How odd… They were the same height, had the same body build, although Mr. Vash was a tad bit broader across the shoulders, they were thin and lanky, but moved with exceptional grace. However, before she could ponder the thought longer, there was an announcement over the loud speakers. "Will a Mr. Vash the Stampede please make his way to the firing range?"

The stranger grinned, "Well now, looks like I'm up." He turned and gave Meryl a wink while twiddling his fingers at her "See ya soon toots," and with a deceptive ease of movement he had broken free of Vash's grasp and skipped off. Meryl's frown remained on her face as all her thought processes came down to bear on one bit of information: Why was _he_ going by the name of Vash?

Placing her hands on her hips, she eyed Vash with a suspicious glare and demanded, "What's going on…"

Vash sat down heavily in the discarded chair. He ran a hand through his light blond hair and waved at Meryl to sit. "People use the name as an alias all the time," he said when she had finally seated herself. _Including myself, _Knives added internally. "I'm not in this tournament, although when I discovered you were missing a bit ago I figured you were here. I wasn't expecting that he would be here…" Knives sighed and all of the dark expressions that had come to his face a moment before were replaced by genuine caring. "Are you okay? He didn't harm you did he?"

Shaking her head slowly, Meryl glanced over his shoulder and watched as the man going by the name of Vash the Stampede hit every single bottle with the sound of a single shot. The audience cheered as she looked back at the worried man who _also_ went by the name of Vash. "I don't get it, what's going on? Who is that man?"

"The stalker I was warning you about. The monster that is trying to kill me."

Meryl blinked, her hand going to her mouth, "He's _what?_ But why? What for?" The look on the man's face in front of her told her he wasn't going to tell her. She shot up out of her seat, ready to take on an army. "Okay, so you can't say… But damn it! Why don't you call the authorities? Have him locked up? Get a restraining order or something?" _Getting shot in the foot is too good for him!_ Her eyes caught the sheriff walking by and she turned in his direction while saying, "We can do something about it right here and now, just say the word and…"

A hand rested lightly on Meryl's shoulders, and suddenly she found herself in Vash's warm embrace. Meryl swallowed, her face turning red as he pressed her to his chest. "Thank you. Your spirit is refreshing. If only something so simple would cure this nightmare!"

At the same time, the real Vash was looking over his shoulder and saw Knives tenderly holding Meryl. He sneered. Out of the corner of his eye Knives noticed Vash watching them mentally told him, _Don't you even dare touch her again Vash. She's under my protection and you'd best be aware of it._

In a smile that did not reach his eyes, Vash grinned; _I knew you would appreciate the gift. However, your infatuation is slowing you down. Do you realize that I've caught up to you three times now? The forth time we will end it._ He slid his glasses higher up on his nose with his middle finger before moving off to sit in a tent at the other end of the stands.

Knives released his grip on Meryl and stood. "Come, we're leaving town now."

"What? No!" Meryl crossed her hands over her chest, her legs stiff. "I've got a tournament to compete in." _And win,_ she added mentally.

The gunman started to reach for her, but Meryl moved quickly, and resumed her place behind the chair.

With an exasperated hiss through his teeth he informed her, "Don't be a fool. Even if you _do_ beat all of the others, you'll have to compete with _him_, and I'm sad to say, you won't win."

Meryl's eyes narrowed, "You wanna bet? Scum like that deserves to be taken out! I'm trained to do just that, besides, it's just a contest, it is not like…"

"Meryl Stryfe to the firing range please," the loud speaker announced.

"I'm up," Meryl said, her disposition changing rapidly. She passed by Knives with a smile on her face, un-strapping one of her derringers as she went. "Wish me luck!"

"Meryl…" Knives started and then gnashed his teeth together. That horrendously stubborn woman! She'd get to the final stage of this competition and then the last round would be one-on-one combat and Vash would kill her! He dashed after her. "Meryl wait… Let me take your place."

"And make me sit out? No way buster," Meryl she said with a frown. She was having men problems alright, but not the kind she was hoping for. These two were getting annoying. She waved her derringer at him, "I can do this. Don't make me shoot you to prove it."

In a movement too swift to follow, Knives grabbed her gun without a word, and even managed to remove her cape in a matter of seconds. Meryl was left standing with a raised empty hand and a shocked look on her face. What had just happened and how was he able to move so fast? With a look of disbelief, she stared at the Knives who now had her cape flung over one arm as he waggled a derringer at her. "He's faster and he'll kill you. At least I have a chance, and if the money is all you're after I'll give it to you when I win." Then, without another word he spun toward the check-in tent and waved his hand in the air, "I'm Meryl!"

The guy at the check in tent cussed, "I _knew it!_ I knew she was signing in for her boyfriend! You should be disqualified for that!"

"Sorry," Knives said, grinning, but still managing to give Vash a dark look as he passed, "My parents gave me such a girlie name that I thought we could get away with it… At least give me a shot out of pity."

Without allowing anyone to say otherwise, Knives lowered the tiny derringer toward the far end of the range. The bottles were _just_ in range of the small caliber weapon and he squeezed the trigger with his pinky finger. One bottle snapped in two, followed by a second immediately after. He turned and glanced at the man at the table. The aide's mouth was open and his eyes were bulging slightly, but he made no effort to argue. This man could fire a gun that was half the size of his hand and hit the targets dead on!

Meryl of course, was seething, hands balled into fists at her side. However, as she started to calm herself, as she scanned the crowd and realized that the imposter Vash, his glasses slid down on his nose again, was watching her with intense gaze, she couldn't put her finger on what the look could possibly mean until he winked and put his fingertips to his lips, blowing her a fake kiss. No doubt about it now! It was teasing, while at the same time, lustful! Jerk! Making a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, Meryl grimaced and turned away. _Well, it's not every day I get two men fighting over me… But this is not the way I wanted it to happen! Damn it, now I can't take a trophy home to show Father and the others._

Meanwhile, without a word, Knives took the other derringers from the cape on his arm and fired each one in turn hitting all of the targets squarely, not missing a single one. The last of the guns however was a nuisance and he had to pry it back off of his pinky finger as he walked back to Meryl. "Can't believe you use such tiny guns." He grumped at her while handing the spent ones to Meryl absently. He offered her cape back as well. Then, from his side, he produced the long silver gun that Vash the Stampede was known for. "But if you don't mind, I'll be using this one from now on." He snapped the cylinder open, checked to see that all of his bullets were fresh, spun it, and then slammed it home a second later. Knives smiled. Even though it wasn't _his_ gun either, it was an identical replica. It felt at home in his hands.

He turned and watched Meryl toss her cape over her shoulders and after reloading her spent derringers; slip them back into their places. She huffed as she looked up at him but then he smiled innocently and she relented warning him, "You'd _better_ win, because if you don't then you're taking me shopping with your own money."

Knives smiled, "Of course…" But his smile faded as he turned to watch Vash move to the range for the next round of targets. Again they went down in a matter of seconds, and the crowd cheered for the ace gunman. _He's good, even better than the last time I saw him shoot_. Knives frowned, glancing at his gun. He clearly remembered the day it came into his possession. That time had to do with another set of insurance agents. Hopefully this day wouldn't wind up the same way that one did.

"What do you say about getting me something to drink?" He suggested with a quiet confidence to Meryl. "Maybe one of those cold coffee drinks…" Knives fished in his pocket for a few double dollars and handed them over to her. "And get yourself something too, I heard you skipped yours this morning. You must have a pounding headache by now."

Meryl looked up at him and then down at the money, realizing how kind he was and observant, that he knew enough about her coffee addiction to know that even now she was getting the craving. But instead she shoved the money in her pocket and growled, "No, it's YOU who gave me the headache. However I'll take it, but you're getting the smallest one they have and I'm ordering the largest!" She spun on her foot and exited through the throng of people.

Knives watched her go until suddenly he felt the presence of his brother beside him once again. He didn't turn as Vash put a hand on his shoulder. "She's quite the spit-fire. Like a wild toma ready to tame. You haven't ridden her yet though, have you? Pity, I've heard the fresher they are the wilder the ride."

A blue light came to Knives' eyes and he fought to keep it from being seen by anyone in the crowd. "You killed Dominique. And now you've come to kill this girl too, is that it?"

Vash laughed, "No way! Not a fresh little filly like her! Yee haa!" The over-enthusiastic exclamation started to draw stars so he leaned up close to Knives' ear, "First I'd tame her, use some of those interesting tricks that Legato and the Doctor invented for you before you helped me destroy July City, and then I'd lay her. If she was a failure like Dominique _then_ I'd kill her." He jumped back before Knives could strike him with his fist. Then he erupted into laughter. "Everything you can do I can do better," he sung "I can do anything better than you." He pulled his gun instantly and Knives imitated the maneuver.

From a distance, they could easily be mistaken for the same man, although one was wearing white, and the other black. The two facing each other were mirror images holding identically shaped guns, with blond hair, and when the stranger gazed over the rim of his red sunglasses, it could be seen that they both had the same strange-colored aqua eyes. Knives could feel the trigger in his hand slide backwards just a hair but suddenly the announcer called for Meryl again and he cursed. "Stay away from me. This is your final warning Vash."

"Ooh, my legs are shaking!" Vash cackled and holstered his gun again. "But I'll wait until we're up for the final round. Then won't that be mighty interesting? There are a few thousand insects here we could exterminate…" He laughed and disappeared into the crowd just as Meryl was returning carrying two coffees in her hands.

"Did I miss it? The second round?" Meryl saw he had his gun drawn again.

"No," Knives replied. "It's just beginning." He walked away without taking his coffee and headed out to the firing range.

* * *

**Shave and a Haircut**

_**Meanwhile**_

Wolfwood wandered through the camp, his hands in his pockets. He hadn't been allowed out of camp yet to buy his cigarettes and he felt jittery. Spiky said he could go stock up this afternoon providing he took the Big Girl with him to keep an eye on her. However, soon after breakfast she and Livio had disappeared and now he was getting worried. It was _his_ job to watch the Big Girl. Sure, Livio was part of the package, but wasn't he completely devoted to the Master? The little girl had disappeared first thing and then Spiky right after her. Now the camp was devoid of all human life but for Chapel who was enjoying the quiet time to hold a disgusting service for the other priests. They were slitting their wrists and mangling other body parts in order to better serve the _Master_. Wolfwood was inclined to waste every last one, but that would have only made them happier. He couldn't imagine why the doctor and Spikey would put up with this horrendous display!

_Because they're not here,_ he reminded himself. Where the hell was that girl anyway?! He needed a pack of smokes and he needed them _now!_ Wolfwood burst into the girls' tent and that's when he found her. Milly looked up startled, scissors in her hand. "Nicholas! What's wrong? Is something the matter?" She started to turn, and so had Livio who was sitting in front of her, a towel wrapped around his shoulders

Nicholas gaped. His partner's white hair was evenly trimmed now. His long disheveled locks a thing of the past. The remnants of the haircut lay scattered on the dirt floor around Livio's feet. "You gave him a haircut?!" He gestured absently at the cut hair without taking his eyes off his friend's head.

Milly giggled, "Yes, doesn't it look good?" She leaned forward, the sudden interruption forgotten, and removed the towel from around Livio's neck. Then she grabbed for the mirror sitting on Meryl's nightstand and held it in front of him. "You're so much more handsome now, and it'll be so much easier to keep clean. Of course you can grow it out again if you like but at least it won't look so…" Milly clicked her tongue, searching for the word, but couldn't come up with anything besides _homicidal_ and that wasn't exactly a good way to end a conversation. Instead she just dropped it and turned on Wolfwood.

"You could use a trim too if you wanted to sit down. Or perhaps a shave?" Giving him a big smile.

The priest lifted his hand to his bangs, "No thanks, I like it this long. Besides ya know how barbers are, ya go ta someone else and suddenly they shave you bald when ya ask for a trim." Plus he didn't exactly like that twinkle in her eye when she glanced at the shaving kit next to the mirror on her bed.

The Big Girl nodded instantly. "Of course. They think you've suddenly become a traitor, of course." She grinned, "Okay then, I guess we're ready to go shopping. We really should get Livio a hat. With how light his hair is his scalp will burn until his hair gets longer."

"I don't know…" Livio said standing, he looked embarrassed all of a sudden. Nicholas was amused, but at the same time his leg was twitching. The lack of nicotine was really starting to get to him.

"Sure, we'll find you a cowboy hat, isn't that what they wear in these southern parts?" Wolfwood waved to Livio to follow him out, "Come on, we don't have all day you know, sun's getting lower in the sky already."

Milly grabbed her duster, swinging it over her shoulders before grabbing for the change purse in her belongings and shoving it into an oversized pocket in her pants. "All right, I'm ready. Let's get out of here and see if we can't find Meryl too. I'm sort of worried because she left so early…"

"Spikey… I mean Vash is with her," Nicholas said as they left the tent and headed to one of the trucks parked nearby.

"Ooh, how charming!" Milly replied in delight, "I was really worrying about those two you know. They were getting so close there for a while and then all of a sudden Meryl wouldn't have anything to do with him and Mr. Vash wasn't even _trying_, but bless his heart you could see he's been missing her company…" She rambled on about this for a while longer as they resumed their normal positions in the cab of the truck and rode into town.

Finally, she had worn herself down from the romance talk, which was about to make Livio gag and had already sent Wolfwood into a fit of laughter and coughing by the time they stopped at the general store. "Well, here we are, I'll be back in a few…" Nicholas jumped out of the cab, but when he didn't hear a reply from Livio and Milly, he paused. They were looking at something down the street, and then he realized that there was a throng of people, merchants and spectators, and a huge sign overhanging the crowd announced the Quick Draw Tournament.

"You should have entered that," Livio said under his breath. "We could have sent the money home." He eyed Wolfwood, and Milly turned her head and blinked, not quite understanding what they were talking about. Nicholas shrugged it off.

"I doubt I would have stood a chance anyway. I'm used to large firearms, not those little pop cap things…" Wolfwood rubbed the back of his neck. "Once I get my smokes, you want to go see what all the excitement is about?"

Milly nodded, "Oh yes, can we?"

"Don't see why not, providing you think you'll have time for your shopping too?"

"Sure," Milly said, in motion suddenly. "I'll just dash in with you as Meryl wants me to get the _special supplies that aren't pudding_ and then we'll be all set." She hopped out of the cab and went into the general store followed by wondering looks from the boys. Then they looked over at each other and shrugged at the same time.

"Special supplies that aren't pudding?" Livio lifted an eyebrow, or would have, if it wasn't missing, but the gesture raised the tattoos above his eye instead, "What do you suppose she meant by that?"

Wolfwood shook his head, "Don't ask, some woman thing probably. Best not to ask questions to answers you don't need to hear." He closed the truck door and shoving his hands in his pockets, followed Milly into the general store.


	21. CH 20 Quick Draw Finale

Chapter 20

_It's been a few months since we posted a chapter… Thanks to AineofKnockaine, Erin, Hopeis4Ever, and all of our other fans who have commented, plus all the recent favorites, I know you're there! Yes, we ARE still trying to get this story completed, even though other projects have taken on their own lives, check out Dwellin's story she is posting on her own account for Bleach! MillyT and Dwellin_

_PS – I apologize for how confusing the names get in this chapter – don't worry, everything will be sorted out by the next chapter, I promise! Milly_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!"_

* * *

Chapter 20

**Two Plants and an Insurance Girl**

**Stardate: 10-17-0110-12:00**

They called him the humanoid typhoon. Destroying the largest cities to the smallest villages in the space of a few hours. The reports said that he was a tall, lanky man, wearing red, his blond hair spiked up to the sky, and carrying a silver handgun. Each reported sighting came from someone of a different standing, from the lowliest criminal to the most high-credited politician. Insurance papers were filed from all sides of the planet after July City, some occurring on the same day in different hemispheres. Each one said the same thing, everything was fine until Vash the Stampede came into town, and then afterwards: total destruction.

Meryl discarded reports of all sorts in her early days of researching the legendary gunman. There were reports that came in even farther back, claiming a similarly clad man, always of the same age-range, giving him credit for crimes committed, even eighty years or more ago. For her own records, she merely made a time-line and then discarded them for fabricated documents, because no man, no matter how good he was, could have escaped time. Legend or not, especially not the man standing in front of her, could have been around before her grandfather's time!

However, as she sat with her hot blessings from heaven in a cup that had almost instantly cured her headache, Meryl realized something else. This other man who was claiming to be Vash could have easily caused the duplicate reports. An excellent gunfighter as he was, almost better in some cases than the man she knew to be Vash, he could have ransacked one side of the planet, and the real Vash the other. No one would realize the difference providing they both wore the same clothes and hairstyles. In fact, the more she watched them, it was as if they were raised together, their movements were similar, and their mannerisms reflected one another as if they were created as two sides of one coin. She couldn't shake the feeling that there were indeed two Vash the Stampedes, standing right here in front of her!

Both of them were incredibly handsome and unfortunately both utterly devastatingly scary. The moment Vash got up to take his turn, he turned into a completely different man. He was kind and caring when they met, and even though he always dodged her questions, he still managed to do it with a smile as if nothing were wrong. She only saw a dark expression cross his features once or twice, and mainly to do with his stalker. But now his stalker, this "monster," Vash called him, stood nearby, his arm wrapped around a skinny blond woman who wore clothing that left little to the imagination. His hand was permanently attached to her behind, and he kept coping feels of her elsewhere as well. Meryl could almost read his lips as he said, 'For luck.'

She grimaced, trying not to pay attention to him. _What a pig,_ was her first thought, but it was followed usually by a few choice dirty words she rarely spoke in public. At night he too was a different man, somehow more mellow, although completely rude, she wondered why he changed now that they were out in the open. Of course, the women were eating him up, he was handsome and talented, and she had no doubt he'd disappear with a half dozen of them if he so decided providing he won the tournament.

It was then she glanced over to Vash. He returned from his round, sweat beads forming on his brow, which he wiped off with a handkerchief he casually retrieved from his jacket pocket. His right hand was black from gunpowder. He paid it no mind as he sat down in the chair next to her, his eyes narrowed, calculating. As of yet, he and the stranger had not faced off, but they were already coming to the end of the tournament, and it was obvious they would soon enough. Meryl looked down into her cup of coffee and then back at him, wanting to say something, but she could tell he was really working for her.

Knives turned and saw Meryl's expression. He couldn't manage a smile on his face as he wiped the sweat from his forehead again. It wasn't the concentration to hit the targets that caused him to sweat, but the overwhelming presence of his brother. Vash exuded an aura that threatened to bring something evil to the surface. It was as if the last layers of sand were blowing away from a long buried ship; one that he had lost, and was unsure if he wanted it uncovered just yet. Every time he pulled the trigger, his Gate caused a painful pinch in his left arm, as if just _asking_ to be used. Knives was afraid if it were to go on much longer, he wouldn't be able to quell it.

Meryl was smiling a goofy smile at him. Knives frowned. He hadn't run away. He was doing this competition for her, because she was stubborn enough to get herself killed, and yet, why was she grinning at him like a buffoon? Suddenly her hand reached up and touched his cheek. He flinched. It was such a jerk that Meryl removed her hand almost instantly, "I'm sorry but you've got gunpowder all down the side of your face."

"Oh," Knives took his handkerchief and wiped the side of his face absently, but Meryl grabbed his hand and took it from him.

"You're not helping things, your hands are covered with the stuff," she smiled calmly and started to wipe his hands first. They were so wide and long compared to hers. The tips of his fingers were calloused from use, dark marks burned into the skin from the hot gun and powder. His hands were well tended, even though they were dirty now, the fingernails carefully trimmed and neat. Her own hands looked messy in comparison. Over the last few weeks she had not the time to tend to them and the nails were ragged. Meryl put it down as something else she had to do if they received the prize money.

Meryl concentrated on her task, even with the presence of the stranger nearby. She was sure he was watching her. Even though there wasn't anything between her and Vash, Meryl wanted to almost say with her gestures, 'I'm with _him_ so you'd better keep your hands to yourself!' However, the expression on Vash's face said something entirely different. It was apparent any contact was making him extremely nervous. "What's wrong? You're doing fine out there… Although so would _I_, because I am an excellent markswoman."

Knives spared her a sharp glance. He was worried that any day now Vash would come into camp and sweep Meryl away and kill her. It would be his revenge for all of the things Knives was said to have done before July City… Those things he couldn't remember doing. But Vash knew, he remembered, and even as he flirted with one bimbo after another, those piercing eyes nailed him with accusation. "Maybe so, but the next round is one-on-one, someone will get killed."

Meryl blinked and sat back in her seat, handing him back the handkerchief. "No… No self-respecting town would do something like that. I mean… think of the insurance premiums." She knew from his expression however, that it was no lie. "No wonder that waver I signed at the mansion was twelve pages in triplicate…" The little girl trailed off, picking up her cup and sipping her coffee before looking over at the imposter Vash and sipping her coffee again before turning to her fill-in. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"It's all right," Knives said with a shrug. "I knew what I was getting into. It'll take more than a bullet to stop me from winning your money for you." He managed to bring a smile to his face for her sake, it was a bit sloppy but it carried his emotions with it. Somehow he'd come to care for this little sprig of a woman after being with her for so long, and seeing her happy and safe was at the top of his list. However, he knew he needed to find a place to drop her to keep her out of harm's way, because if she was so prone to getting in trouble like this, then he knew for sure she'd get herself killed.

The smile on Knives' face came as a surprise to Vash, who briskly brushed away one of the prostitutes who were clinging onto him in hopes of getting money later for their attention. He leaned forward, watching the way his brother was reacting to the little insurance girl. The tiny obnoxious woman had so gently helped clean Knives' face that Vash's heart raced in his chest to watch it, wishing he were in his brother's place. But why… A frown formed on his face as he leaned back, allowing the hands of the girls on either side of him to roam over his body, fluttery like butterflies down his arms and abdomen. They whispered things in his ears he didn't pay attention to, his eyes locked on that girl.

Her creamy skin, those bright silvery violet eyes, that raven hair that almost had blue highlights in the sunshine, and her small limbs, all formed this perfect little package. Vash wanted her. He wanted her so badly he could taste it, and yet to see his brother with her… the brother who had ruined his life, had taken everything he cared about away from him, and now this… _He_ had met the insurance girl first, _he_ had helped bring her out into the cold Outer where he hoped to get his hands on her… but Knives had her! It was enough to make him boil inside. Knives even seemed to be enjoying himself!

Vash started to stand. His plan, he supposed, had backfired on him. Wasn't it his intention to give the girl to Knives, only to rip her away, causing his brother suffering? But why was he suffering so inside for this little woman he merely lusted after, or was it lust at all? It created a strange stirring within him he had never expected. No. He was going to have to end this now. Watching her with him was driving him crazy, even with the girls at his sides pawing at him to sit down again, crooning about the things they'd do for him once he won the tournament.

No, he needed to stop these feelings that were boiling inside of him so he could get back to enjoying himself. But how? The plan didn't form until there was a stirring in the crowds nearby. Vash instantly sat back down in his seat, recognizing that Knives' bodyguards had finally appeared. Vash regretted not taking those two out when they'd taken out the insurance agents. However, the memory of that day formed an idea in his head like a plant emerging from stasis. He smiled, wrapping his arms back around the shoulders of the prostitutes, laying his fingers on their breasts as he did, ah yes… now he knew what he could do!

When Meryl heard the noises, she glanced up from her seat. There, towering over most heads was a familiar man with blue tattoos on his face. People were getting out of his way in a hurry, apparently having never seen such a tall and brawny man with such a scary expression. Livio wore a black cowboy hat, studded with silver buttons. As the crowd parted, people were saying things like, 'is he from the circus?' and 'sweetie don't stare, it's rude' and other such things as they easily made way for the tall man. Meryl stood. The priest in black was arm in arm with Milly as they followed Livio.

The tall girl scanned the crowd and when she spotted Meryl, waved wildly. "Meryl! Hey Meryl! We're over here!" She was still waving even though Meryl nodded to her and waved the moment she spotted her tall friend. "Hey Meryl, whatcha doin' over there with Mr. Vash?"

Meryl set down her now empty coffee cup on her chair and went over to where Milly and the boys had been stopped by the security personnel. Thankfully the town had been smart enough to set up a barricade, keeping people out of the range of the weapons fired during the tournament. She nodded to one of the guards and he let her pass under the rope and over to Milly. "We entered the contest," she said as Milly gave her a hug. "Well, _I_ entered it, but Mr. Vash decided to take over for me."

Nicholas laughed, "That sounds like ol' Spiky. He's probably got this tournament in the bag." He smiled, "What's the award, a year's supply of donuts?"

Milly laughed, "I had no idea you were going to compete! If I had then we would have come right away to watch!" She put her arm around Meryl's shoulder, "See, I was giving Livio here a good haircut, but it could have waited until this evening."

The little girl glanced up at Livio who had a nervous eye on Vash. "You look good," she said slowly.

Livio nodded, his yellow eyes narrowing as they took in the scoreboard over the grand stand. "Who is the other man who has the same score?"

Meryl shivered, "An imposter Vash, I'm not sure who he is." She nodded over to the black-coated man who now had a redhead on his lap who was helping him drink a mug of beer. Meryl groaned, "He's as good as Mr. Vash." When she turned to look at Vash's bodyguard and the priest, they were stiff, both of them looked about ready to jump the blockade and run in with guns blaring. "What? What is it? Who is he?"

Nicholas swore under his breath and turned, "Someone from our past, no worry to you." He put on one of his hundred double-dollar smiles and ran a hand through his hair, trying to act nonchalant. "Haven't seen him in awhile but I'd recognize him anywhere. No wonder Spiky looks on edge out there." He nodded over to Livio; "I think you'd better take the truck back to the camp and get the Doc. Take the girls with you."

"No way! I wanna see the rest of the tournament," Milly said pouting sweetly. She was confused. First Nicholas said she could come, and now he wanted to send her back?

"Not me!" Meryl said, ducking Livio's outstretched arms and ducking back underneath the barricade. Nicholas moaned as Meryl put her finger to her bottom eyelid, pulled it down and stuck out her tongue. "So there!" And she ran back to Mr. Vash, losing sight of her friend who was pulled back through the crowd. _Better keep her safe,_ she thought internally to Livio.

Milly couldn't understand what was going on. She merely wanted to sit and watch Mr. Vash in the quick draw tournament and have a few fair foods, maybe some cotton candy. But suddenly she was being hustled off by the incredibly strong Livio and couldn't do anything about it but complain.

"Why are we leaving? What's going on? Who was that guy? I've seen him before, he's got a thing for Meryl but he's not a bad person, I'm quite sure that his intentions are…"

"His intentions are to seek revenge on my master any way he can and if that means taking out innocents in the process, so be it. Best case only a small block will be taken out like in November City, but worst case we could have another July… We're best to get out of here as far away as possible. Do you understand?" Livio's golden yellow eyes were frightened and Milly swallowed.

"What about Meryl? I don't think we should have left her alone, do you?" Milly's eyes were wide, thinking about the destruction that happened in the two cities… did this mean that any time the two men got together there was a horrible accident? Like when two chemicals were mixed to create an explosion, were these two men that unstable?

Livio rushed her along again, "No time to convince her, I need to get the Doc right away. He's the only one who…" Livio suddenly found his hand empty where Milly once was. "What the…?! Get back here!"

But Milly was running full steam the other direction, "I've got to get Meryl! We're a team and I have to look out for her!" She rushed back through the crowds and stopped dead in her tracks. Mr. Vash and the stranger were being called for the final round of the tournament. It was too late. In her mind's eye, Milly imagined pictures of explosions, wondering just how two men could destroy everything around them… would she find out now? Would Meryl be hurt in the process?

Vash got up from his seat. The women sitting around him murmured disappointment and excitement as he went up to face his brother in the final round. He smiled before he left the group, and did a short bow, looking at them from below a few fallen hairs. "Do not worry ladies, I shall return and treat you all to dinner on me with the prize money." He then touched the black gun at his side and walked out to the range to face Knives.

His brother had gone through a much different kind of goodbye a moment before. When he stood, he grabbed Meryl up by the waist, and walked her, kicking and complaining, over to the barricade, where he placed her in Wolfwood's care. "If anything out of the ordinary starts," he said in a low whisper, "Get out of here, out of town as far away as possible." Wolfwood understood, nodded serenely and put a very strong hand on Meryl's arm much to her dismay.

Vash and Knives kept their eyes on one another as they took their places. Vash smirked and winked at his brother as they turned to face their backs to one another. The fight itself began with the count or ten paces. With each number they took another step away from each other, then they stood at ten, waiting for the signal. A starter shot fired into the air and the two men turned. It was almost too fast to see, one moment they finished their paces and the next: gunfire. Each round sounded like a single shot and Knives was forced to dodge out of the way from a hail of bullets. He sent his own back at Vash, but the gunman merely walked forward, easily sidestepping each bullet fired at him. A malicious grin spread over his face as he fired shot after shot, pausing briefly only to reload. Knives swore, instantly on his feet and away to the obstacles set on the course for cover. He put his back to a crumbling wall and reloaded.

Meryl watched, her eyes wide, forgetting Wolfwood was holding her tight. She couldn't believe this stranger! It was just like in the alley, when faced with guns he didn't even flinch! He just kept walking forward to face Mr. Vash even now, unafraid that the man behind the concrete would fire at him at any moment. Did he have a death wish? What kind of man wasn't afraid of getting killed?

Knives felt a shadow fall over him. Too fast, his brother wasn't even worried about getting shot. He knew they were invincible from a little bullet wound and didn't care to hide that fact in front of the crowds. Vash pointed his gun down over the top of the concrete slab, one leg propped up on the top. "Well, this is a change, we've got an audience watching us this time." He smiled as Knives looked up over him, waiting, wondering what Vash was going to do.

"I was considering just wiping out this entire city with your help… But it's too messy, and I'm not exactly in the mood to miss my chance with those lovely ladies over there waiting for me. At least not until I've slept with them…" Vash's smile turned into an obscene smirk as he tapped his finger against the trigger of his gun. "What to do? What to do?"

"Just shoot me and take the money, if that's all you're after," Knives hissed, the palm of his hand sweating as it clenched his gun. "If this is about us, then get it over with, just stop and leave the people alone."

Vash's eyes narrowed, "You didn't stop… You wouldn't _let_ me stop…" A flickering of the past rolled across Vash's features like lightning through the sky. Knives knew from second hand stories about what happened in the past… but had Vash just showed some sort of regret…? He didn't have time to ponder this, for a moment later Vash continued.

"You're going to lose Knives. Lose everything dear to you just as I did." Before Knives had time to react, Vash turned his gun-arm in a wide arc aiming it directly at Meryl. Knives brought his silver gun to bear, but too late, Vash fired at Meryl.

"NO!" Knives cried, he fired point blank, catching Vash's left upper arm. Vash hissed, but not at the wound, rather at the fact that the priest had taken the bullet meant for Meryl! Wolfwood was down on his knees, trying his best to put on a show. Vash swung his gun and caught Knives square in the face, sending him to the ground as he jumped over the cement slab and started heading for Meryl to finish the business he'd started.

The crowds were in an uproar over the atrocity. Suddenly, weapons of all sorts were brought out of hiding. The sheriff and deputies were having trouble calming the crowds from streaming over the barricades to get at Vash the Stampede themselves. People screamed for the match to end, to stop Vash, they all knew what he was capable of, and to shoot one of the bystanders was out of the question! Would they all be destroyed if they didn't stop him right now?

Meanwhile, Milly was wrestling through the crowd to get to Wolfwood. The priest was bleeding and she couldn't bear to see the expression on his face! She got stuck in between two men and a deputy fighting over one of them trying to climb the barricade, and Milly grumbled impatiently. Suddenly, she found herself picked up and lifted over the fence. To her amazement, Livio climbed over after her, "Get going!"

"But he'll need a doctor! Shouldn't you go…"

Livio smiled, an amused flicker came to his golden eyes, "Nick will be fine." He dashed past her to head to his fallen friend, Milly close at his tail, only to find the imposter Vash suddenly blocking their progress.

Milly gasped, how had the stranger gotten from out there to here in mere moments? She glanced out to see Mr. Vash not far behind. When she turned back, the count was grinning maliciously. Milly couldn't believe this had been the same bumbling drunk man who was chasing Meryl, could it? A gun was pointed directly at her chest. She swallowed, "Please Mister, I'm sure Meryl would go out with you if you just…" His lips twinged, but rather than speaking, he pulled the trigger.

In that same moment, Livio fired a round at Vash. The bullet meant for Milly harmlessly disappeared into the sky, thrown off the mark by the gun slamming into his left arm, jerking him backwards. Vash frowned; he could feel the oil from his fake arm rolling down like blood over his fingers. It might have been a mechanical arm, but it still had feeling, and it would have to be fixed before he could use it properly again.

Vash growled and returned fire, nailing the tall man in the stomach. Livio fell to his knees and Milly gasped, falling to the ground to press her hands into the wound to stop the bleeding.

"VASH!!" Knives screamed, throwing himself on his brother. He seemed to appear out of nowhere during the commotion. But both brothers were faster, much faster than humans, so Vash, though taken by surprise, managed to brace himself for the impact within the same second.

They fell to the ground, kicking up dust as they fought on the ground. Knives threw his weight into slamming his gun into Vash's face, but his brother ignored the pain, and escaped from under Knives. He got to his feet and headed out into the desert, shots firing, when they were able to reload. Knives screamed as one of the bullets ripped through his calf and he went down.

Vash skidded to a halt, sand and dust flying up around his heals. "This is what you deserve Knives, but only a small part. We shall pick up at last in Jeneora, that is where you are headed, isn't it? Come and pray with me at Jeneora Rock… but I know your sins will never be forgiven." His eyes caught the enraged crowd, and he frowned, no time left to gloat. They would have to pick this conversation up later. With that, he took off into the sands and disappeared.

Knives pulled himself up from the ground, limping slowly, heading back to check on his bodyguards. They would most likely be fine. Single wounds would heal in a matter of hours, but they needed medical attention before the town caught wind of their special abilities.

The crowd was in complete chaos now. Those most furious came running in an angry hoard, stopping when they spotted Knives. "Where'd he go?" Knives merely pointed out to the desert. One man saw his leg was bleeding and offered assistance, but Knives shrugged it off. The bullet would work its way out soon enough.

When he returned to the ring, Conrad and a few of the priests had arrived. Apparently Livio had managed to send some message to them, or perhaps the noise the crowd made had invited their interest. Whatever had brought them; they were now tending to the fallen men in a fashion that no one considered suspicious. At the moment the priests were loading the bleeding Livio onto a hastily made gurney to return to camp. It took four men to carry him. Nicholas, meanwhile, refused to be carried. He walked behind, carrying his cross with his good arm. Milly followed after them, wringing her hands, her coat soaked in Livio's blood.

Meryl however, ran over to Mr. Vash the moment she saw him. "Your leg! He shot you!" She gasped, looking at the bloody hole. Everything had fallen into disarray so quickly she hadn't a moment to react. The whole thing happened in a matter of seconds, and she didn't have time to think as she put her hands out to help him.

"I'll be fine," Knives stated, although accepted Meryl's shoulder for support. The pain was still hard to bear. "I suppose I screwed up your chances to go shopping," he said with a pained expression.

She gaped at him, "Really… Is that all you can think about while you're bleeding?" Meryl shook her head, "Where did he go? Did you get him?"

"No," Knives answered as Meryl set him down in a chair to look at his leg. Things were already starting to quiet down, especially now that the mob had disappeared into the desert. "He won't be back for awhile. I know where he's headed."

Meryl glanced up. "You called him Vash…"

Knives blinked, he hadn't realized it until now, but of course to her _he_ was still Vash. Knives shook his head, "What else should I call him? That's the name he entered into the contest."

"Oh," Meryl bit her lip. She knew there was something behind her Mr. Vash calling the other by the same name. Could there really be two Vashs like she thought? Meryl looked back down his leg and pulled up his pant leg to look at the bullet wound. She saw the silver bullet sitting neatly near the surface. A second later, before she could even pull it out, it fell to the ground and her eyes went wide. "What the…?"

Knives hastily pulled his pant leg back down. "I told you, it's fine. We should go before anyone comes asking questions." However, it was already too late because the officials presiding over the tournament were headed for him and Meryl, stern expressions on their faces.

The man from the front table lead the group, followed by the mayor and one of the deputies. They stopped and stared at Knives a long moment before saying, "Meryl Stryfe, we hereby declare you the winner of this tournament and reward you with 100,000." The mayor extended a fist with a small brown bag of clinking coins.

Taking it with a baffled expression, Knives opened it and saw there were bills inside as well. He nodded. "Thanks I guess." He handed the money over to Meryl. "Here you go, buy yourself that purse." The others exchanged surprised glances and watched as Knives stood.

"We have to go, thanks again." He grabbed Meryl by her arm and lead her into the crowd and away.

* * *

Hillside Conversation

**Stardate: 10-18-0110-6:00**

The next morning, Nicholas sat with his face to the sun, his shirt off as he inspected the previous day's wound. It had healed well, all but an angry red mark on the surface, and a slight twinge of pain when he moved it just a certain way. The other priests, namely Chapel, who was convinced that allowing the girls to know anything about their special abilities was forbidden, had told him to keep it wrapped up for a few days after. However, the sunlight did it well, and Nick knew that within the next twenty-four hours it would be as good as new thanks to the enhancements of the Eye of Michael.

Luckily the girls were still in bed. They'd gone to bed late after washing their clothes from various bloodstains. The clothing hung on a line in the camp nearby, flapping in the breeze, now dry and clean once again. Nicholas watched them as they lazily moved, mimicking the girls almost, as they had lives of their own, besides those of their wearers. Wolfwood sighed; he didn't regret taking the bullet meant for the little insurance girl that was what his job was. However, he wondered why Vash had fired upon them at all. It bothered him, because if he was so cold blooded as to kill Dominique, and now going after other women… perhaps it wasn't too long before Vash would give up and destroy everyone on the planet. Up until now he had avoided hurting women; like one last hold out from his previous life before he and Knives changed. At least, from what Conrad told him, both men were completely different before the events in July City.

Nicholas heard a stirring behind him, and Livio came from the tent to sit down next to him. He still wore the bandages around his midsection, although they were pristine white, proving the wounds underneath were probably healed completely. "How're ya feelin'?"

Livio shrugged, "About as you'd expect after being shot." He closed his eyes and took a long deep breath in the morning air. "Actually I rather like it because we haven't had to do any chores."

The priest beside him laughed, "Probably a plus point having Milly flutter all over you last night as well."

"She did not…" Livio said, a light pink color covering his cheeks. "Besides, she was just as attentive to you before she wore herself out and fell asleep on your bed." He smiled with the thought, a bit jealous that Nicholas had received attention too. Milly was an equal opportunity girl, she fluttered into Knives' tent as well, and spouting off home remedies to Conrad even as the doctor assured her he knew what he was doing. The insurance girl wouldn't flinch and would shove some horrid smelling thing or another at them saying it would do the trick a whole lot faster than some fancy-pants big city doctor's medications. After her rounds she plopped down on a chair next to Wolfwood and slowly her head dropped down to her chest, followed by her body as she fell asleep on his cot. Nicholas took her back to her tent, carefully making sure that Meryl was still attending Knives nearby so she wouldn't see him carrying Milly with a bad arm.

Milly wasn't exactly a lightweight, but Nicholas had no trouble lifting her into his arms. Nor had he regretted the move, because she snuggled up against his chest in such a way that he blushed himself. Away from Livio, Wolfwood enjoyed the attention, even if Milly probably slept through it. Her soft body, sweet smelling hair mixed with dust and sweat from the day's proceedings, and the soft material of the dress she'd been wearing in lieu of her drying duster, all made him wonder if he had really _needed_ to take a vow of chastity for the priesthood. He still wasn't officially a member of the church until they made it to Jeneora Rock in a month's time, and perhaps he could find another occupation…?

Still, as Nicholas sat next to Livio, watching as the camp slowly awoke; he wondered if it was even worth imagining. Milly tended to treat everyone with the same kindness. She worried about them equally, even as he wished she'd pay him just a _bit_ more attention than the others, to prove that maybe he was just a tiny bit more important? Did she like him or didn't she? Wolfwood sunk down in his spot, feeling a bit miserable to even be contemplating such thoughts when they had all been in grave danger for their lives. Vash was still out there, he still wanted to hurt them all…so what was he doing wondering if a girl would consider going on a date with him?

"You okay, Nick?" Livio asked, looking down on him with his one yellow eye.

Wolfwood waved his hand at him and reached into his coat pocket for a cigarette. He pulled one out and lit it, "Yeah, I'm alright. I wonder how ol' Spiky is doing this morning."

Livio crossed his arms over his chest, "He headed to his spot above the camp a little while ago. Limped a bit, but otherwise…"

"No, I mean after seeing Vash again…" Nicholas was worried, after what happened, there was a possibility Knives wouldn't even allow the girls to continue on with them further. There would go his dreams of getting closer to Milly…

The man to his side was silent, pondering. He didn't dare speak about what his master was thinking, because truthfully, it wasn't his business. Livio knew that whatever Knives did about Vash was his decision, and Livio would follow him in whatever way he needed.

"Anyway," Nicholas started, "I suppose we should probably get to looking wounded again before…"

"And just _what_ do you two think you're doing?" The voice was accusing and yet perky as ever as Milly came strolling up to get her coat, realizing that both men were out of their tent in the sunshine. She ignored her clothes, flapping in the breeze, and came over to Nicholas and Livio, her hands on her hips. "You two should be in bed and…"

Milly's eyes fell on Nicholas' wounded arm. There was such a tiny scar it was almost as if he had been shot months ago rather than just a day ago! Her eyes scanned over his chest and she blushed. She tried to avoid staring at him, but when she moved her eyes they landed on Livio's shirtless abdomen… Even though she'd seen them just the night before in this state, somehow in the daylight it made her flush. They certainly were handsome weren't they? She instantly made her eyes go to their faces instead, fighting with her inner 'Meryl' to keep it business. "Just because you don't look sick doesn't mean…" Milly trailed off. They really didn't look hurt at all. In fact, they looked right as rain, and she had a strange feeling that as healed as the priest's arm looked, so would Livio's stomach.

"You two aren't normal… sorta like Mr. Vash… aren't you?"

Nicholas and Livio looked at one another. So much for keeping it secret. "Well, not exactly like Spiky, no. But we're just… special," Nicholas said finally. He put his hand to the spot where the bullet wound was, and shrugged. "You aren't scared are you?"

The girl shook her head slowly, "I don't know why because I probably should…" Milly trailed off. "Oh is that Mr. Vash up there?" Her eyes caught the man sitting up on the hillside, and then fell on Meryl, who was headed up to him. She smiled to herself. Perhaps if Meryl got together with Mr. Vash then maybe she could get with… Milly snapped out of her thoughts as she looked nervously at the men sitting in front of her. "Oh well, I guess I should get ready for the day. Dr. Conrad said we'll be leaving, so I'd better get packed."

Knives leaned his head on his hand as he watched the trio below. It was like his own private soap opera, watching these three. He smiled to himself, flipping the book closed he had been reading, and putting it over to the side. No book was more interesting then watching these young ones talking amongst themselves, they were getting along well, which had come as something of a surprise to him. From body gestures he could tell they were all well aware of their feelings for one another. He hated to bring the show to an end so quickly, but after last night he was more than sure it was needed.

It wouldn't be long now; they were almost ready to leave the outskirts of May City. From where he sat he could see the buildings in the distance still. He wondered if they had ever found Vash. Caravans threw up smoke and dust in their wake as they traveled to and from the trading town. Already he knew what he had to do, where he had to go… But he was avoiding that final meeting with Vash. His brother's words still rang in his ear, "_Come and pray with me at Jeneora Rock…"_ That's where they were ultimately headed. He had to get the girls to safety before that time, and decide which of his followers to bring with him, and which to leave behind.

"Excuse me, Mr. Vash?" A tentative voice reached through Knives' thoughts and he blinked, his eyes falling on Meryl as she came up the side of the hill. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her head was ducked slightly as she stopped about ten eels down from him. "Do you mind if I have a word with you?"

Knives nodded slowly, "I was meaning to talk to you myself. Come, sit down." He patted the ground beside him and Meryl sat down demurely next to him and straightened her skirt over her legs. Knives watched her do it, intrigued by the feminine motions, her soft hands, and her calm demeanor. But he took his eyes off of her and let them fall on the book he was reading instead.

"How are you feeling? The doctor said you weren't hurt… But the blood…" Meryl's violet gray eyes were sparkling as she looked up at him, worry crossing over her features.

"You don't have to worry about me, it wasn't anything a few stitches couldn't mend," he said, trying to relieve her worried expression. The truth was the wound was deep enough that even now that it had healed, it still pained him to walk. Knives was afraid there was something on that bullet Vash had shot into him. But he didn't want the little woman worrying about him. She had plenty to worry about on her own without having him as well. "How are you and your friend fairing?"

Meryl shook her head. "We're fine. A bit surprised, that's all."

Knives smiled slowly and sadly, "It was my fault you two almost got hurt."

"Not at all!"

"_Yes,_ it was mine," he continued, ignoring her outburst. The gunman looked down at Meryl. "We'll be leaving May City soon, and I'm dropping you both off before we get to Jeneora Rock."

"No!" Meryl shook her head, "You can't. It's our job… We _have_ to follow you…"

"He nearly shot you!" Knives snapped. He grabbed for her hand and pressed his thumb into her wrist. Meryl ground her teeth with the pain but did not cry out. "Could you imagine what it would be like if things had happened differently? If Wolfwood had been just a little slower my brother would have…" Dropping her hand, he stood suddenly, and then in pain, dropped to his knees.

"Vash!" The girl started for him, but he waved a hand fiercely at her. What did he mean _brother?_ Meryl's eyes were wide, "Vash…"

"Don't call me that name!"

Meryl sat back, watching him clutching his leg and looking at his wound. It was bruised, and he was sure there was some kind of poison running through his system. However, it wasn't open or bleeding any more, so he doubted he'd die of it. But Meryl had not seen anyone heal so quickly. "Your leg…"

Knives grimaced, "We're not normal... I won't die from something so small… Although Conrad is worried about whatever is causing the bruising." He shook his head, rubbing it. The thing had started to hurt like hell when he walked.

He turned to look at her, "Don't call me Vash anymore."

"Then what…?"

Pulling his pant leg down again, Knives looked at her with sad eyes. "That's not my name. My brother… He's the _real_ Vash." He shook his head and managed to get to his feet, trying to bite his tongue to keep from crying as he got used to the feeling of hundreds of knives prickling his leg as the poison coursed through his body. "My real name is Millions."


	22. CH 21 November City Past

Chapter

_Howdy Everyone! DwellinJ and MillyThompson here! Back for another chapter. We want to thank all of our reviewers – those regulars like AineofKnockaine, Hopeis4Ever, Erin Sasaki, and all of our newest reviewers! Thanks to everyone we're still plugging away ever so slowly at this story. DwellinJ now has her own fanfiction of Bleach, so look for it! As for me, I'll try to keep the good Trigun stuff coming until its at its end! Enjoy!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

**Chapter 21**

Introduction to a Shaded Past

**Stardate: 10-18-0110-6:30**

Meryl sat down slowly next to this man whose identity had suddenly come into question. Mr. Vash… no… Millions… no, or was his name Knives? He looked at her with his calm aqua eyes, the smooth skin with the single mole under his right eye, the light blond hair that spiked up almost naturally over his brows, the gentle demeanor… This man, whom she'd assumed months before was the Vash the Stampede she and Milly had been looking for, was suddenly thrown into question. Now, after all of this time, perhaps it was not he they had been searching for, but the stranger that kept appearing from time to time.

_"My name is Millions…"_ The words rung again in Meryl's head. A mere day before, by watching the other who called himself Vash, her certainty hung on a precious thread. The thought of two Vashs was still there, but now that she knew they were brothers… brothers! Meryl's eyes unfocused as she looked on the camp, what had he said to her after that? Oh yes, _"Millions Knives. Vash and our mother always called me Knives. I would rather you call me by my name now that you know the truth."_

Since that moment Meryl had remained silent, contemplating the new information, letting it process through her analytical brain, and then further through her heart. Had these two men toyed with her? Now that she knew they were brothers… she had a strange inkling they were playing with her as one would play with a pawn in a game of chess, using her for their own selfish purposes…

A hand set down on the side of her cheek slowly, and it was Meryl's turn to flinch. She stood again, Knives looked at her sadly, like a child knowing he'd disappointed his mother by admitting to breaking the vase. "I only meant to protect you from Vash. If you had gone in search of him further you probably would be either dead, or his whore."

"And what did _you_ want with me?" Meryl snapped. She put her fingers to her lips and turned on her heel. "Forget it… We've got a job to do, and if you're not really Vash than I guess Milly and I have been wasting our time…"

"No!" Knives snapped. He grabbed for Meryl, ignoring the pain in his leg to wrestle her into his lap. Meryl screamed but he wouldn't let her go, setting one hand on her mouth. "Stop it! You're such a fool! If you go after Vash you'll die… if we had not been at that tournament you would have wound up dead… don't forget he turned his gun on you without a moment's hesitation!"

Meryl squirmed in his lap but his words sunk in and she stopped moving. Knives lowered his hand from her mouth, "We can take care of ourselves."

Knives shook his head, "I very much doubt that." He sighed, his grasp loosening on her as she relaxed slightly. "You heard about what happened to the last insurance agents, didn't you?" The memory was still fresh in his mind from two years before. Meryl slowly nodded that yes, she'd heard about how McPhee and Langhorne had died.

"You don't know the whole story, and I'm not planning on letting you go after Vash until you have." His hands dropped from holding Meryl, his leg was throbbing from the position he held her on his lap, and Meryl seemed to realize and stood up.

"So you're going to tell me?"

He nodded slowly, "Yes."

Meryl sat down next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, a stern look on her face. "All right then, start talking. You've got an hour."

Knives' expression lightened as he saw how interested the little girl looked, waiting for him to tell her a story. He wasn't sure if she would believe him, but it was something she needed to know. So once he'd arranged his leg more comfortably, and collected his book back onto his lap from where it had fallen, he started to tell her the story of November City two years before.

**Planting the Seed**

**(Two Years Ago)**

**Stardate: 07-021-0109-13:00**

The town was bustling more than usual on a Wednesday afternoon. The city itself was a hive of activity due to the recent events that transpired just ten miles outside of the city limits. A week ago there was found below the desert sands, a buried ship. Originally intended to be a production unit, the ship had dozens of plants within its hull, although they were dead, hanging like burnt-out light bulbs. However, upon further inspection, they found one plant remained active, she ran the security system within the ship's quarters. After some effort the recovery crew was able to deactivate the functioning systems and gather enough information about the plant to put out a call for any and all engineers and scientists they could find on the planet.

When a call like that spread through the satellite, _everyone_ knew it had to be big news. November City became a buzz of activity, people came from miles around. Engineers from every corner of the planet poured into the city. Plant worshippers came. Newspaper journalists. The rich, the poor, the young, the old: everyone wanted to see the giant bulb as it was removed from the buried ship and carried across the sands into the city. No transplantation had ever been conducted on this scale in the history of Gunsmoke. It was a testament to the wealth, knowledge and ingenuity of the inhabitants of the planet.

Not only did humans come to see this great event, but also the independent plants: the twin brothers. The ones who lived outside of time, the ones who were immortal. They did not come together, nor did they know the other was in the city, but _someone_ knew, someone had _planned_ this event, and he sat in a diner that Wednesday afternoon as the townsfolk passed by the window watching the giant bulb moving into the city on a massive pulley system. He could see the top of the bulb from his position at the window. In front of him sat a steak dinner, and he ate it slowly, bite by bite, enjoying what perhaps could be one of his last meals. He _always_ thought of his meals this way, cherishing every bite of whatever he ate, enjoying the taste, the texture, the absolute pleasure a good meal could provide. He'd eaten very little during his childhood, starvation bred appreciation.

Past his window walked a man with blond hair, wearing a red coat, followed by a bald man in a trench coat, a young man in a suit, and another man who wore blue jeans and a t-shirt. They were headed to the plant facility. The group had heard the call for plant engineers, had come to see her, the blond heeded the weakening call of his sister, to see what they could do to help her.

Although normally November City would have stood at attention with the arrival of this blond man in a red coat, today all eyes were on the plant. The sand steamers, which pulled the great globe came to a halt outside of the facility where smaller vehicles and cranes took over, lifting the plant up and into the facility. Engineers and scientists watched as they carefully lowered the plant into its new home. It all happened within three hours since it arrived within the city, and when the plant was out of sight, so too the group of four. They disappeared into the building, allowed entrance because of the bald man who still carried an identification card for the plant engineer's guild.

William Conrad, as his name-badge proclaimed, lead the three others up into a small observation room at the top floor. One wall of the room consisted entirely of windows. The rest of the room housed various computers, a large conference table, and a chalkboard completely filled with equations and notes. Bill went over to look at the chalkboard; the blond man removed his coat and set it on a chair before going to look out the windows. His hand was wrapped around something, his thumb rubbing the item unconsciously.

The other two men stood at the doorway, looking slightly bored but alert for intruders. "These are numbers for setting a plant on a loop system for transportation… quite a skilled set of equations…" Conrad trailed off as he glanced at the younger-looking blond man. "Knives?"

Knives glanced at the scientist over his shoulder, "Look, they're connecting her." He nodded to the windows and Bill walked over to stand next to him. They looked down out of the observation room into the huge structure that was built around the hull of a crashed ship. The ship itself had done a nosedive straight into the planet, making something of a cavern hundreds of yarz into the ground. There were catwalks built to reach each plant, dozens of them, disappearing into the darkness below. The newest plant sat on the highest level, only twenty eels below the observation room. Scientists came and went while engineers hurriedly hooked up the connections.

One man seemed to be directing the madness. He wore a white coat and a visor so they couldn't see his eyes from where they stood. Knives squinted; trying to make out his features, but was unable. His eyes went instead to the silent plant. She remained in her inactive form during this move, looking dead, but not black with death, just slumbering. His eyes were sharp, watching for the moment when she was activated again, feeling _something_ coming from her, some kind of emotion that had drawn him here in the first place.

A hand set down gently on Knives' shoulder. "What are you getting from her?"

"She's in hibernation," Knives replied slowly. His fingers played over the bullet in his hand. He kept it as a memento, or perhaps a reminder… It had become a nervous habit to hold it within his left hand. He was uncomfortable talking about his connections, being a plant had made things difficult his entire life, and even now as he traveled with those who knew and accepted what he was, it still made him uneasy. Conrad had treated him much like a son over the last few years, but even with the doctor's gentle words and encouragement, Knives still felt like an outsider. It was because they _knew_ who he was _before_, even though he didn't remember himself. "The figures on the board, are they of any use to you?"

Conrad shook his head slowly, removing his hand from Knives' shoulder and turning to take a chair from the conference table. He pulled the chair over and offered it to Knives, then returned for one of his own. Bill glanced up at the two men by the door; they were conversing in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear. Bringing back a chair, he sat down in it, feeling his bones ache with relief. "I'm getting too old for this…" He chuckled to himself when the plant looked at him, "Well, not as old as _you_, but old enough."

Knives nodded, waiting for the doctor to answer his question. Bill glanced over his shoulder at the chalk numbers on the board. "I have no use for the equations, I could have come up with similar ones myself. What is curious however is the level that they are. I have not met a man on this planet who could have done something of this quality. Very few scientists within the SEEDS Project could have in fact." Bill frowned, squinting down at the people below. "That man there, he's in charge I take it?"

Knives nodded, "He's instructing them on which wires to attach in which order," he leaned forward, hands on his knees, watching like a hawk. The doctor knew that Knives could read lips easily enough, although he wouldn't have doubted the man could have heard what was going on, although the former option was most likely. Both of them waited for the final connections to be made before they acted. They sat in silence, all but the two men by the door quietly conversing between themselves.

One of them, the one wearing a suit, leaned against a large wrapped cross he carried with him. It was stained in areas with grease, and he was fingering the spots unhappily. "I _used_ bleach."

"You pre-treat?" The other asked.

The first one frowned, "What do I look like, a dry cleaner? It's white, I used bleach, laundry detergent, and cold water." He sighed, "I'll have to break down and go to the fabric store and buy a new bolt."

"Maybe you should get a different color this time," the tall man with the white t-shirt and blue jeans said, a twinkle in his eye. The other eye was hidden in the shadow of a skull-mask he wore. "Try black, so the stains don't show."

"Livio, you're missing the point…"

"Or brown? Brown would match the straps…" Livio was grinning now. "Nick, it's not like it _has_ to be white, Chapel never gave you specifics other than to keep it wrapped to keep from getting dust in the gears."

Nicholas rolled his eyes, "Maybe I'll pre-treat it…"

His words were cut off as Knives suddenly stood to his feet, his chair knocked over onto the floor. The doctor was startled as Knives put his hands to the glass, the bullet tucked between thumb and forefinger, it clicked against the window. "She's awake… It's starting." The room fell silent; everyone held their breath as below the scientists stood back from their work. It had taken only a half hour to hook her up, and suddenly a long tube near her base started to move, and the engineers scrambled around the end for whatever it was she was programmed to produce.

Knives' eyes however were not on the scientists and engineers, but rather to the plant. His mouth was opened slightly, she was active, and her inner form showed with the sudden power surge flowing through her. But it wasn't her form that drew his attention; it was the fact that her hair was darkened; the tips were black. Never had he seen a plant that had any color to it. Even he and his brother Vash had the lightest blond hair, even on their lower extremities, never black.

Conrad saw the plant and swallowed. He couldn't believe they'd saved the plant only to have her on her last legs so to speak. She wouldn't last very long, and he had a feeling Knives knew it too. Knives turned his eyes upon the doctor and caught him in his intense gaze. "What's wrong with her?"

The doctor didn't hesitate in his answer. "She's expiring. They won't have very much time with her unless they…" He trailed off. Knives was watching him, listening intently. It was the expression, which chilled people to the bone. Intensity a person could not break away from. It wasn't evil but contemplative, calculating, as if he heard, understood, and absorbed every fact. As if he could put together a large jigsaw puzzle without a picture, yet always knew exactly which piece went next and where.

"Will we suffer the same fate? Slowly drained?" The bullet rolled in his fingers, faster, increasingly as he pressured for more information. Knives hadn't realized there was something he still did not know about his species… He didn't _want_ to know, but he felt he _had_ to.

Bill sighed, "Someday. As long as you don't use your power extensively, your lives may continue on much longer than they already have." He knew Knives wanted to interrupt and he held up a hand, "You and your brother's energies are highly unstable when you revert to your plant forms. I'm very surprised you were not destroyed during the July incident… If something were to happen again it may possibly drain you too much…"

"But many of them down there have been used regularly for a hundred and fifty years without decline, what is the difference?" Knives settled his eyes on the doctor. A question like that the doctor could not refuse to answer.

"Regulation of power input to output," Conrad replied, "Like a rechargeable battery, plants need an equal input. Very few scientists on this planet can regulate such a difficult balance, which is why no new plants have been created upon the surface. The ancestors did an apt job at programming the ships since the originals remain to this day. But the balance of power forms a loop, one plant fueling another. The first plants that die are those powering the others. On Earth they had alternative power sources: solar, geothermal, and nuclear…"

"Vash and I, how does our power regulate?"

"You're very much like that little one down there, on a loop, powering yourselves. But you and your brother have metabolisms closely related to humans. You must fuel yourselves. Undoubtedly your brother has as large of an appetite as your own to compensate for energy use."

Knives glanced again out the window, "My sweet tooth… Our metabolisms are faster than a human's. We don't gain weight even with increased caloric intake." He sighed, "I see."

Conrad felt goosebumps on his arms. The moment Knives got the pieces, he put them together at incredible speed. It was a miracle he hadn't regained his memory in all of this time. The doctor hoped it was because Knives didn't _want_ to remember. He still seemed to distance himself from what he once was, even as he relearned more and more. Conrad was internally glad Knives refused to use his powers, even though he had learned to use them as a child before Conrad met him and could undoubtedly control them even now had he chosen to.

"But food wouldn't help us re-charge, no matter how much we ate. Is there another power source if our hair were to turn black?"

"I don't know of one," Conrad lied. Knives knew it. He didn't say anything, his eyes back on the plants. He already _knew_ of another source. Although the thought of _using_ that source made him sick to his stomach. Why was it that one species always had to feed off another? Why couldn't there be an even give and take? Could it be possible to save the plants but also help humankind? They didn't have the resources on this planet however, not like they had on Earth. And yet, they still created the plants, why? For space travel, for exactly what they were being used for in the first place. But no one knew there could be independent creatures such as he and his brother. They didn't know they had a conscience, were sentient beings.

Even Conrad had no clue how the plants were first created, only how they worked. How could anyone create another species? One perhaps even better than themselves? Was it even possible?

Knives pulled away from the glass. "We're leaving."

"What do you want to do with the plant?"

"She'll be fine for now… I don't want to be here any longer." Knives clenched his fists and felt a stirring, a sickening feeling come over him. It was some old emotion, some old memory… Something he didn't want to remember and the longer he was there the more he felt the memory would overtake him. _Maybe it is true what the doctor said about me,_ he thought, before squashing the thought. "Let's go."

**Risk Prevention Investigation**

**The Next Day**

**Stardate: 07-22-0109-8:00**

It was a small office, but it was home. Connor McPhee sat tapping his pencil on the top of his desk. He reached over and grabbed the little plaque on his desk that said his name and shined it with his sleeve. Bored, he leaned back and stared at the ceiling, thought about having lunch with his wife, and then he glanced at his watch. James was late, _again._ Connor stood from his desk, just about to grab his coat in order to find his partner when the door slammed open.

"You're _never_ going to believe this McPhee!" Langhorne said breathily as he came into the office. He was a tall blond man, hair sloppy over his face. He looked completely the opposite of his dark haired partner who sat in a perfectly pressed suit. "That plant they found, it didn't just bring in the engineers…" James shoved a crumpled newspaper at Connor. "Look!"

Connor's eyes followed the bobbing newspaper but couldn't quite read the heading, "I _would_ if you'd stop moving!" He snatched it from his partner, smoothed out the paper on the desk and read the title. _"Vash the Stampede seen in November City."_ McPhee's eyes went wide, until he glanced at the newspaper's name. It was, as usual for James, a tabloid. He leaned over the paper and crossed his hands in front of him. "What did I tell you about reading this trash?"

James rolled his eyes, "It's the _truth,_ McPhee! I saw him with my own eyes! Just down the street!" He jabbed a finger at the picture. "The journalist is staying at the Cross-Horse Inn and so's Vash!" Lifting the paper from under his partner's elbows, James opened it and waved at one fuzzy picture after another. "He's wearing the red coat. He's got blond hair. He's got a mole under his eye! I swear this is the guy! And he's right here under our noses! Do you know what Bernadelli would think if we got a hold of the Humanoid Typhoon?"

The thought struck a note with Connor. Indeed, Bernadelli himself had been asking all of his insurance agents to keep an eye out for this number one threat to his company. A few agents had already tried and failed, others died… But Langhorne and McPhee were his best and most trusted agents, the first ones he sent to open an office in November City and run risk prevention in the area. He called them back up to December wherever he needed them in an emergency. So wouldn't it only make sense if _they_ were the ones to corner Vash the Stampede? He could already imagine the raise they would get… "I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look."

"That's the spirit!" James grabbed Connor's coat from its hook and shoved it at him. "Come on, he's having breakfast in the café, we should just make it as he's getting his bacon and eggs."

He hated this town. Loud flashing lights, stupid lost technology reminding him of his old life on the ship… Of the village where he was no longer welcome. The only reason he was even here was because he heard of the new plant, and even then he hadn't wanted to go see her. Vash could feel her dying even as they plugged her in. It was like a bringing a sick man into a hospital to die. Under normal circumstances the engineers would never have moved her. They may have programmed her for a Final Run, got something out of her and then left the useless ship in the sand. But they went out of their way to move her. Why? He had to find out… Had to know the reason. Especially because he had a feeling she was being used to bring him and his brother out of hiding. Already he had seen the article on the front of the tabloids about Vash the Stampede.

Vash knew that Knives was here in town. The tracking device said as much. It pinged the night before from a hotel down the street. Vash kept away from his brother, went to the other side of town and took the edge off from listening to his sister's anguished cries. He couldn't stand it, but he didn't want to stop it either. It reminded him of what he was. The only way to stop her cries was to kill her, and he couldn't bear the thought of destroying yet another one of his kind. Knives had killed so many already, the humans even more… He drank the night away and slept in the alley behind the bar.

The next morning, eyes sore and red, Vash pushed his sunglasses up on his nose. The red lenses took off some of the glare from the twin suns, but barely dulled the throbbing pain in his head. He needed booze. Best way to cure a hangover… Although for some reason, none of the bars on this side of town were open this early in the morning, and he was in too much pain to find the others, so he'd have to do with the _second_ best cure for a hangover. Breakfast. He yawned and pushed into the small café someone had recommended to him the day before.

The bell jingled as he walked in the door. His headache was screaming, and he cast a glance at the offending bells, wishing he could rip them from their place on the door. His attention was on nothing else but getting the hangover cured… He dragged himself painfully over to the counter and ordered a tomato juice. The manager eyed him. Vash was wearing a short black jacket, black jeans, and a gray polo shirt. His blond hair fell around his red sunglasses. Funny thing was, he reminded him vaguely of someone. The manager scratched his chin and went to retrieve the tomato juice.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Vash pulled out a little bottle of pills and rattled them before opening the top. He tipped the remaining aspirin into his hand, and set the empty bottle to the side. When the manger returned with his juice, he tipped the pills into his mouth with a swig of tomato. _Wish this had vodka in it… Some celery…_ When he pulled the glass from his lips he waved over the manager again, noting the name on his badge said Ron. "I want a stack of pancakes, every syrup you've got, a pound of bacon and a dozen eggs scrambled."

"You've got quite the appetite," Ron responded, turning to put the order into the kitchen.

The cook frowned at his boss, "Hey, that guy from before ordering a second round or something?"

Ron cocked an eyebrow. That's right, that's why the guy at the counter was familiar, because he looked stunningly alike to the guy sitting in the corner booth. In fact, it was nearly the same order… Only the other ordered his eggs over-easy. "No, it's a different guy…" Ron glanced over his shoulder, looking from one guy to the other, "Wonder if they were twins separated at birth or something…" He turned, reached under the counter with the syrup sampler and went to place it in front of the new guy.

Vash took off his sunglasses now that his headache was dying down and watched Ron. The manager was staring at him with an odd expression, his eyes leaving him only to look over his shoulder at something. Vash frowned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device that looked like a notebook. He would never have brought out a device in any other city, but in November the site of Lost Technology was a common occurrence.

Flipping open the notebook it revealed a small black touch-screen. Vash pulled a small stylus from the side and tapped the screen. It flared on and a little red dot appeared. Then, a moment later, a little blue dot appeared immediately beside the red. Vash could feel his headache returning even as he slowly turned on his stool to look at the corner booth.

There, sitting no farther than fifteen eels away was his brother Knives.

He turned on his stool again and flipped the tracking device closed. Vash shoved it into his pocket and swore under his breath. Casting a glance back over his shoulder briefly, he found that Knives had not felt him. Perhaps he was preoccupied with their sister's anguish. Or perhaps he had not embraced his plant side enough to feel either his sister or the brother whom sat so nearby. In the past, Knives never showed any signs of feeling him nearby, so it was very likely.

Vash sipped his tomato juice and contemplated leaving, but he _wanted_ his pancakes! He frowned. Even though Knives had not seen him, the three men with him would undoubtedly notice him after long. Vash was alone; it was easier to stay hidden that way. Knives was like a sore thumb traveling with the Eye of Michael. His most devoted followers, the priest, the scientist, and the bodyguard, were always nearby. Very rarely did Vash have a chance to talk to his brother in private. The last time he tried, that damn priest's cross punisher had nearly blown his head off. He growled under his breath and finished his juice.

They wouldn't do anything in a crowded place. He knew that for sure. Vash, even though he didn't care about the people in this café, wasn't in the mood or in any condition to fight. _At least not until I have breakfast! What's taking so long anyway?_ He cast eyes about and found Ron who was carrying a tray over to the counter. "Here you go buddy." Ron put the pancakes, the eggs and the bacon down in front of Vash and put the tray to the side. "Can I ask you a question?"

In a decent mood now that his food was in front of him, Vash sighed, "Sure." He grabbed the syrups, starting with strawberry and emptied it on his plate.

Ron watched Vash in awe as he started eating his meal. "That guy over there… You related or something?"

"Why do you ask?"

The manager peered over at Knives, "'Cause people have been saying all week he's Vash the Stampede. If you're related to him, then maybe you can tell me."

A smile spread over Vash's lips, and he swallowed his mouthful. "I can tell you for certain he's not Vash because…"

Before he could finish his sentence, the bell to the café rung again and two men, a tall blond and a shorter dark-haired man walked in and straight over to the booth in the back. "We found you, Vash the Stampede!"

Vash's eyes went wide as he watched Knives and his three companions turn to look at the two newcomers. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his stool with his plate and fork, watching the show. The shorter man extended his hand to Knives, "I'm Connor McPhee of the Bernadelli Insurance Society."

"And I'm James Langhorne, his partner," the tall blond added.

"We're insurance Risk Investigators," McPhee said briskly as Knives took his hand with a disdainful look. They shook hands briefly and the agent retrieved his hand. "We were sent here by the Society to find out…"

"Excuse me, my dear man," the bald man said beside Knives. "But we know why you are here."

James scratched his head, "I'm sorry but we _do_ have a job to do. We don't get paid if we don't keep an eye on you."

"And I'm sure you know what's happened to others before you…" The priest said, his eyes dark, looking at Knives and then to Livio who nodded. "It's better if you simply leave us alone."

"We can't do that," McPhee snapped. He pulled a gun from his front coat, "I'm sorry, but if you don't cooperate…"

Vash finished his plate and put it down behind him. He wiped his face with a napkin before rising. Reaching below his coat he brought out a long black gun. His brother's gun, the one he'd found first in the wreckage of July City. Vash lifted it into the air. A woman screamed, "He's got a gun!"

The café broke into a panic. The insurance agents turned suddenly, Knives' group were in shock, the customers scrambled from tables and booths. Ron shouted to the cook and they both ducked down into hiding. The café cleared out within moments but for the seven men. "I'd drop that gun if I were you," Vash said, lowering the long black colt, aiming it at Connor's head.

Connor's eyes narrowed, "I don't think so. This is Vash the Stampede."

Vash laughed. "Really? Really!" He took a step forward, waving his free hand at his brother. "This is my older brother Millions Knives. I'm afraid he's been using my name lately, _my_ coat, and _my_ identity… The only thing he _doesn't_ have is _my_ gun!" Vash dropped his left hand into his coat and withdrew the long _silver_ colt .45. He aimed both guns on the insurance agent. "Because, as you see, I have it." He cocked both guns simultaneously.

"Now, if you _would_, drop your weapon."

James swallowed next to his partner. "Maybe you should do what he's asking…"

"This was _your_ idea to come in here!"

"Not at the risk of our own lives!" Langhorne was near ready to wet himself, he hadn't thought to bring his own gun otherwise they may have been equally armed… He cast a glance at the men at the table. The man they thought was Vash sat with his knuckles white as he clutched the table before him. The bald man was sitting on the edge of the booth so he couldn't get out without going over him. The other two were on edge. They looked like they were waiting for a cue, fingers hovering near where weapons might be hidden. "Let's just go… What do you say?"

Vash's eyes narrowed, "Listen to your partner, he's a smart man."

"Please… Just leave," Livio hissed through his teeth at James.

Connor bristled, frowning, and lowered his gun. James grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him away, "Don't think you've seen the last of us! I know who you _really_ are!" The insurance agents disappeared through the door, leaving the five men alone for their reunion.

"Vash," Knives said slowly. Vash still held his guns up; they were now aimed at his brother. Knives nudged Conrad out of the booth and they both stood. His brother smiled.

"It's been a long time, Knives."

Knives nodded. He cast a dark expression to his companions. "Leave us."

"Are you nuts?" Nicholas squawked.

"LEAVE!"

Wolfwood, Livio, and Conrad reluctantly left. They weren't going to argue with their master. They didn't go far, merely stepped outside of the doors, then turned, watching through the windows. When they left, Vash lowered the guns and returned to the counter where his eggs and bacon sat cooling. He shoved one revolver under his armpit, grabbed his plate, and returned to the booth. Knives stood watching him the entire time.

When Vash sat, he set the guns on the table, and waved to his brother to sit. "I want to finish my breakfast if you don't mind. Sit. Let's be brotherly about this…"

Knives sat down, his eyes on the guns in front of them. He could grab one and shoot Vash in the head; it would take mere seconds, right? Vash was preoccupied eating his eggs… Knives lashed out, taking the silver gun in his hand, and found the black one at his temple in return.

Vash tilted his head to the side, the fork still in his mouth. He removed it with his free hand. "You planning on shooting me big brother?"

With a sigh, Millions dropped the gun to the tabletop again. "What do you _want_ Vash? Have you come to kill me?"

"Nah," his brother said. "I was being careless really," he pointed his fork at a left-over pancake on Knives' plate, "You going to eat that? The strawberry in this place is to die for…"

Knives shook his head and Vash stabbed the pancake and drowned it with syrup. "You can hear her, can't you? Is that why you came?"

Vash looked up from his plate. "You too eh? I was wondering… There's something odd going on around here." He sighed, watching his brother. Knives had his hand on something; it was rolling between his fingers. Vash caught a glance of it, a bullet. He smirked. His brother had obviously never realized what it was… He finished the pancake and grabbed up a piece of bacon. It was cold, but decently crisp and snapped between his teeth. Knives still had part of his plate left, but apparently he was no longer hungry.

"There's a new engineer in town," Knives said under his breath. He glanced over Vash's shoulder at Wolfwood and Livio. They were standing guard outside of the door. Nicholas' hand on the snap of his cross punisher, ready at a moment's notice. His eyes focused back on his brother, "He knew how to transport her, how to hook the plant up, even though she's dying. Her hair… It's turning black."

"Black?" Vash blinked. "What do you mean, black?"

Knives looked down at the guns again. "It's like a power gauge for us," he set the bullet down on the table and looked at the revolver. Unless there was a bullet in the barrel, it was empty. Vash had played is safe, putting down an empty gun… "When our hair turns black we die."

"Us too eh? I knew our sisters did… How do we know for sure we'll have the same fate?" Vash grabbed a carafe of orange juice on the table and poured himself a glass. He drank half of it and set it down again. "But then, that's all the more reason why we should join forces, don't you think? One of us might die trying to wipe out these disgusting creatures from the planet… But two of us have a fair chance, what do you say?"

He didn't receive a reply. Knives was still contemplating the gun. Vash pushed his plate away. "Take it. I don't need two guns. But you can't have the black one, I've become… Attached to it." He smiled, taking up the black one again and putting it in the holster hidden under his coat. Vash stood. "I'm going to make a visit to the plant facility. Would you like to join me?"

Millions wrapped his fingers around the handle of the silver gun. "No. I'm leaving town this afternoon."

"Suit yourself." Vash turned. He could hear Knives open the barrel of the gun and slide that single bullet into the colt. There was a click as he cocked the revolver. Vash closed his eyes. "Can you kill me Knives? _Would_ you kill me? You're a lot like I used to be… I can see it in your eyes even behind that calculating stare. But even then you couldn't do it, could you?" He frowned. If Knives _did_ pull the trigger, it wouldn't harm him, but it _would_ destroy the tracking device within…

Knives pulled the trigger. There was a sharp crack, and then silence. He lowered the gun and stood. "A dud. All this time…" Millions opened the barrel again and the bullet dropped to the ground in pieces, the metal clinging on the ground. He snapped it back together and slipped it in his belt. "Stop following me, Vash."

Vash shrugged, a smile coming to his lips as he opened his eyes again. "You knew?"

"That it was a tracking device?" Knives stood. "Yes."

"Darn," his brother tilted his head to the side. "Ah well. Seems all I have to do is follow the tabloids anyway." He smiled as he started toward the door again, "That coat suits you. Red's a good color."

Knives put his hands in his pockets, "I've grown quite fond of it."

"It's a good thing I prefer black now," Vash smiled.

Knives watched Vash continue on out the door, past Livio and Nicholas and down the street. His guards watched him, waiting for a signal to shoot… Knives set down a ten double-dollar bill and followed him outside. His companions stared at him. "We going after him?" Wolfwood asked, his trigger finger twitching.

"No."

"But…"

Knives started down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. "We're leaving town. End of conversation."

Wolfwood gave a dark glance over his shoulder at the retreating Vash, and then glanced at Livio who was already following after his master. With a sigh, the priest nodded to Conrad and they followed after Knives. "I don't get it Doc… Don't get it at all." Bill didn't speak; they were all thinking the same thing: they were all relieved.

…_To Be Continued…_


	23. CH 22 Insurance Blues Past

_Howdy everyone! MillyT here! Well, this was a bit later in coming than I had originally intended, but at least it has only been a bit over a month to finish out this cliffhanger! I want to thank everyone for sticking in there with me, I want to thank all of the new and old reviewers – there are so many more of you recently that I really loathed not being able to update this sooner but Tsubasacon took up all of my time in September. As usual I'd like to promote Dwellin's HitsuxMomo story she's been feverishly working on lately, check it out! She's given me somewhat free reign on this story in the meantime, but there's more of her writing to come, I promise! Read on and I shall see you again soon (I hope!)_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

* * *

**Chapter 22**

**Insurance Blues**

**Two Days Later**

**Stardate: 07-24-0109-15:00 Past**

James sat down in the office, polishing his revolver. Connor was eyeing him disgustedly, "If you'd _brought_ that gun, we may have stood a chance…" McPhee sighed, glancing out the window. It was two days after the incident at the café, but surprisingly there had been no repercussions from it other than a few lost double dollars from customers running out to save their lives. Most of the guests were regulars and paid the next day; tipping extra so that Ron could buy a shotgun for behind the counter in case of a reoccurrence.

The men who caused the problem – no one blamed McPhee and Langhorne, they were merely protecting the peace – disappeared. No one had seen hide or hair of Vash the Stampede or his companions. The mysterious man with the two guns was gone as well. It was almost as if nothing had happened, but then again… Connor felt a familiar wrinkle crease his brow, hadn't the man said _he_ was Vash? Didn't he say the blond man in the red coat was an imposter? How many imposters were there on this planet; all riding on the fears of the people?

"I'm sorry McPhee… I was just so excited, and you know I normally don't carry it." James admitted after a moment, setting his gun back in its holster. "But at least we know that the next time it'll be in perfect working order, right?"

"You _need_ to get in the habit of carrying it!" Connor sighed again and picked up his paperwork. "I'm going down to the telegraph office to see if Bernadelli has given us any further instruction. We should have a message by now since we sent out the full report first thing yesterday morning." He shuffled his papers into the outgoing box and stood. There was just something not quite right about it all; it just didn't settle on his mind right. The situation was different than if he had just been one of many imposters… right? To have two men claiming to be the same man…

"Can I come too?" James strapped his belt around him and looked forlornly out the window. It was a really exquisitely nice day out. Hard to stay inside the little dull office on days like this. In fact, under normal conditions he would have found some way out of work, whether it was running fake errands for the society or claiming is wife was sick. Of course his partner knew all of his tricks and only let him away with them once in a very great while. But today of all days, McPhee knew he would never hear the end of it if he didn't let James come.

"All right. Let's lock up. I'm sure your wife wouldn't mind you coming home early and Betty would probably like me to run some errands with her as well…" They grabbed coats, papers, and briefcases, put a sign on the door and locked up to go down the street to the telegraph office.

The office was a few blocks away and had a sign on the front window claiming to be the fastest telegraph service of the entire eastern waste. If they didn't have lines running they had satellite connections, a pony-express, and various other modes of getting your message where you needed it to go within a few short days. It was run by a man named Martin Bainbridge.

Bainbridge, who was a hands-on man like Bernadelli, usually sat in the corner desk between the telegraph machine and the satellite radio, his ear always tuned to the latest gossip. James and Connor used him as an informant from time to time and had set up their office nearby for just this purpose. Today he stood at the front desk all aquiver, his eyes wide with excitement when they came in. "Just got a message for you gents! I've been waiting for you to stop in, nearly about to send Johnny out to get you! You'll never believe it!" He lowered his voice as they came near. "It's **Top Secret**… But no worries, I won't tell a soul…" He handed over the paper to Connor who read it in silence, James looking over his shoulder.

"We're going to do _**what**_?" Connor's eyes were wide, "Our replacements are coming this afternoon so we can track the humanoid typhoon full time? Is he crazy?"

James swallowed, "We are the only ones who've seen him with our own eyes…"

"I guess… But Betty's _not_ going to like this."

"Clio won't either," James said slowly. "Sure we can't ask him to put someone else on assignment?" The two agents knew that becoming field agents was a dangerous and often very hazardous affair, and not for the faint of heart. It wasn't as if they hadn't taken on jobs like this back in the day. They were actually quite famous for it between November City and December, but once they had married and settled down, neither man thought they would be exposed to anything worse than a paper-cut until they retired.

"Doubtful, you know old Bernadelli, once he's made up his mind…" Connor folded the telegraph up and placed it in his front pocket. He glanced at Martin, "What do we owe you for this?"

Martin shrugged, "On the house… Nothing like this has _ever_ come through this office before… But… Can I ask you something in return?"

Langhorne nodded, "Sure Bainbridge, what is it?"

"What's he look like… the humanoid typhoon?"

The two agents eyed each other and Connor finally looked back at Martin, "We know for sure he's a blond man, kinda tall, weird aqua colored eyes… But other than that, I'm not sure. There were two of them."

"TWO?" Martin blinked, "No one's going to believe that."

* * *

**Meeting of Monsters**

At the same time, one of the two tall blond men walked along the sidewalk toward the plant facility. It was already decided, the final run for the newest plant would happen tomorrow, and he decided to take one last look at his sister before the deed was done. It wasn't as if he felt anything for this sister, she, like the others, had no real sentience to her. She looked partially human, responded to sounds as if she understood, but for the most part she was merely a machine, a highly functional biological machine.

What interested him most in her today was the fact that he'd heard of the final run from time to time, but had never heard of the hair discoloration happening before the run. That intrigued him. He wanted to see it for himself. Vash waited an extra day for things to settle down enough so he could visit her in peace.

It didn't take much for him to gain entrance to the plant facility. Only two guards stood post and he didn't even have to kill them, merely knock heads together and they were out. He locked them in a broom closet to avoid later hassle, and went into the darkened facility. Usually these larger plants had twenty-four hour staff, but today was a holiday, although Vash didn't bother to note which. He looked over to see the newest sister to the fold, climbed up the railing and scaled to the top of the globe. She wasn't animated, but he could tell the difference in her outer form; see that things weren't quite right. He tapped long fingers against the glass. "Well Doll, you don't have much time now, do you?" He sat down cross-legged on the top and looked around the room.

He'd only seen one other facility this big on the entire planet, and that place was destroyed. Vash placed his chin on a fist as he eyed his sisters. It looked a lot like July here, the way they were all in perfect working condition, globes polished and clean, wires secure and organized. There were desks on each level filled with computer monitors, lab coats hung on hooks by the doors, and everything sparkled. He remembered the first time he walked into the July City lab, the way William Conrad introduced him to each of the ladies, and he had helped the good doctor with experiments to help them function better. It seemed like so long ago… Vash had become a different person since his brother found the then Revenant Vasquez and made Bill his personal slave.

Vash shook his head, it didn't matter any more. Knives had been right all along. Human beings didn't deserve to live on this planet with their kind. The power… Oh the power they possessed! Vash lifted his head from his hand and looked down at his right fist. It was all here, within him, the entire time! Knives had known how to use his power long before, but Vash had never tried to learn. Why hadn't he? He couldn't even remember his reasons anymore, but he _knew_ now what he was missing! So much! And now… Now he wanted revenge on Knives for what he did… Vash's fake left arm twitched in the memory, an eye for an eye and an arm for an arm! But first… There was something odd about his brother, he'd lost his memory in the accident, and Vash decided it might be fun to first torture him. So far it had been very satisfying.

Smiling to himself, Vash glanced around the room again, something suddenly catching his eye. There, in one dark corner, stood a man wearing all white. He wasn't moving. Originally Vash thought he had been just another coat rack with a lab coat on it, but as he squinted at him out of habit more than necessity, he noticed the face, neck, and legs. "Who're you?" His voice echoed through the room.

"I'm your death," the man said, although from what Vash could tell it wasn't his own voice but sounded hollow, as if it were someone speaking through him. Almost like a tinny speaker. It continued, "I was sent to kill you…"

Vash felt his fingers wrap around his gun. "Who are you?"

"Merely a messenger."

"And your master? Who is he? Did Knives send you here?" Vash was ready to get to his feet; this guy was pissing him off. He'd stopped speaking now and the room remained silent for a few moments. "You won't be able to kill me down there… Now, tell me, who sent you?"

"My name is…" the voice came now immediately behind him, "Legato Bluesummers." Vash's gun was out instantly, lifted to aim back over his shoulder. His eyes moved, his head followed, and he looked at the figure clad in white behind him. The other had been a decoy. This one stood wearing a long white jacket with devilish spikes on one shoulder and a skull on the other. His hair was dark blue and he had yellow eyes set in an almost feminine face. "And you are Vash the Stampede, are you not?"

His eyes lowered, "What are you?"

"Knives' servant."

"You're not one of his priests… I've never seen you near him before." Vash's eyes narrowed, his trigger finger itched, normally he wouldn't have waited to shoot this man, but something… There was just _something_ about this guy. "Now tell me, you aren't with the Eye of Michael, are you?"

Legato's eyes narrowed, "They are not his _true_ servants. I am his first and only…" He looked disgusted, fire burning in his eyes. Vash was mildly amused, he hadn't realized his brother had so many devoted followers… This one was awfully pretty though. He felt a smile come to his lips.

"If you are so devoted, why have I never seen him with _you_?"

If possible, the blue haired man looked even _more_ disgusted, his fingers balled into fists. Legato however, resisted the urge to use his powers to throw the master's twin off the globe and into the depths of the cavernous ship below. Vash could tell he _wanted_ to however, but some old imperative overrode his hatred for the moment. "He has strayed off his path, but I shall soon refresh his memory."

Vash lowered his gun, but did not holster it. "You made him use his powers back in Little America, didn't you?"

Bluesummers smirked, "You were watching, were you? Did you appreciate the sight?"

"Very much, I should applaud your efforts if I weren't holding a gun," Vash watched as Legato stepped forward, to stand near him. Knives' follower was looking at him curiously now. "You're unsure of me, aren't you? When did you meet my brother? Was it before we destroyed the city?"

"Yes… It was a brilliantly beautiful display that my eyes have never seen the like since."

Tilting his head to the side, Vash glanced at the single yellow eye looking down upon him, "Doubtful you ever will again. I don't plan to allow Knives to use me like that again. As it is, he has lost his memory but has gained an enemy. I want his arm."

Yellow eye narrowed, Legato's fingers twitched at his side, "You wish to harm my master?"

"Merely repay him," Vash replied. "But I want his memories returned to him before I do so. I want him to _know_ why I want to cause him suffering. I've been waiting too long however, so perhaps I need help." He looked down into the plant and closed his eyes, asking her to awaken. She did, however slowly, and Vash received his very first glanced at the hair darkening his brother had mentioned. He glanced up at Legato, asked his sister to come to the top of the globe as he did. Legato's eyes were wide in awe, Vash assumed. "What do you wish to do, kill me or perhaps join me as your new master?"

Legato didn't answer. Vash didn't think he would so he continued, "I'm more like the master you worship so… The one you met long before July. I want revenge, but I also want our poor sisters to feel freedom as we do. This one doesn't have long to live as you may be able to tell." Indeed the plant was already reverting to her more stable form. "Help me, and I'll help you get Knives back to his old self." He smiled faintly. "One arm less perhaps…"

"Why should I? You are my enemy…"

"Read my mind if you like…" Vash saw Legato frown. "Oh I know you must have some power like that, the moment I activated the plant that decoy puppet of yours fell down. Are you merely psychic or telekinetic too?"

Legato didn't answer. His eye seemed to glow in the darkness, and Vash could feel a stirring in his consciousness, as if someone were walking through his memories, his thoughts, and his desires. With a smirk, he allowed the man to come to a dead end, walk through his brain no further, and Legato seemed shocked. Bluesummers pulled out, "You're more powerful than he said…"

"And I could afford you much more power if you would join me." Vash blinked slowly, he was reeling him in, hook, line and…

"No."

"Didn't take much time to think about…"

"My master will return to me. I will never betray him!" Legato turned, stalking off into the darkness.

Vash called after him, "Are you so sure?"

"I'll show you…" Legato's voice echoed through the cavern and faded into the darkness. Vash holstered his gun back to his belt. He smiled faintly, wondering just what the man meant by showing him… Vash's brows furrowed. He got to his feet in a quick movement, and bid adieu to his sisters. He had to get to Knives before the show began. If Bluesummers had control over Knives' angel arm before, no doubt he could do it now as well…

* * *

**Final Destination**

**Stardate: 07-25-0109-00:00**

It was time. Langhorne scribbled out the last few notes on the yellow legal pad he used and shoved the paper into a large manila envelope and then put it away in the safe hidden behind a large old painting his wife's great grandmother had brought with her from Earth. Only he and his wife knew the combination and he figured that the information he gathered that day would be safe until his return.

Kissing his wife a silent goodbye, the risk agent pulled on his coat and went out into the night. Connor was already waiting for him. "Well, it's time, they're going to start the last run soon." James nodded in reply but remained silent otherwise. The day had been full of many ups and downs, but something inside of him _knew_ without a shadow of a doubt there was something important going to happen tonight. As it was the last run of the plant had been pushed up ahead of schedule, and there was something not quite so coincidental about Vash the Stampede showing up right at the moment the plant arrived in town.

There were also other odd things happening the last few days, people mysteriously disappearing, dead bodies turned up with no apparent cause of death… And other things a normal person did not know about, the fact that a power increase should have occurred with the arrival of the plant, but the power had in fact _decreased_. More power was being fed into her then received. All of the little facts added up in James' head, they all pointed to one thing, he _had_ to be there when the plant was run through its last production, and somehow Vash was connected with it all.

Getting into Connor's car, the two of them headed in silence to the factory. It was silent unlike many nights in November City. The town was usually abuzz with night life, bright flashing lights, shows and electronic galleries, but tonight it was as if everyone held its breath. Maybe it was. Connor felt a shiver go down his spine even though it was warm summer's night. He looked at his partner from the corner of his eye, "I remembered to bring my gun tonight…"

"Did you leave those notes in your safe I told you to keep?"

"Yes… No one knows about them. However if we were to die… My will is in there too." Connor swallowed and tapped nervously at the steering wheel. "We aren't doing anything _that_ dangerous are we? I mean, I know the humanoid typhoon is really dangerous but…" He swallowed, thinking about the excitement at the café. He'd been so thrilled at first, but now it was serious business, he _knew_ how scary it could be.

James simply shook his head, "I don't know, but… WAIT! Pull over!" Suddenly Connor jerked the car over to the side of the road and James pointed, "It's him!!" Before his partner could pull the car into park, James sprang from the passenger's side door and drew his gun at a man dressed in white with blond hair, walking briskly down the sidewalk with two bodyguards and a man in a trench coat and hat. "STOP!"

The group stopped and the two bodyguards were at the ready, guns pointed right back at James, and their guns were _much_ bigger. Connor jumped from the car, "Hold it right there! Don't move! We just want to talk!"

Slowly turning, the blond man let out a deep sigh. The older man with him eyed the agents from beneath the brim of his hat. Both bodyguards didn't let down their guard, so long as James had his gun at the ready, they would not allow their master to be hurt. Except, slowly, the blond man, the one James knew as Vash, stepped forward between his two guards and set hands on their shoulders. He looked tired. _Very_ tired, and the dark haired of the two lowered his large cross gun to the ground. "Are you sure? They could hurt you…"

The white haired man immediately holstered his own guns and stepped away from his master. Apparently there was no questioning what the humanoid typhoon had to say, even though he never said a word to either of them the entire time. Connor kept an eye on the old man in the back who also looked tired, as if he had been up all day, but there was also a look of urgency in his expression. However, Vash stepped through the shield of his guards and raised his hands. "I don't want to fight, please lower your weapons and we will talk like you request."

Connor glanced at James over the hood of the car, "I think he's telling the truth… Let's put them…"

"No! I don't exactly know what happened after we left the café the other day, but I don't trust this guy isn't carrying some weapon like his friends there," James addressed the others now, "If you don't mind, I'll leave my weapon out, but I will lower it."

"Master…" The white haired man looked skeptical.

Vash nodded to him, "They are men of their words, I can tell by the look in their eyes." He glanced over his shoulder at an all-night coffee shop, "Shall we go inside? We don't have much time, but I am interested in hearing you out." Connor nodded and came around the car after locking his side, and then put a gentle hand on his partner's shoulder.

"Let's go in James, it's better not to make a scene," he gently shoved Langhorne's shoulder and they followed the humanoid typhoon and the others into the coffee shop. The blond man and the older gentleman sat down at a table while the bodyguards remained standing nearby. Connor and James sat across from them. The waitress did not come over, it was obvious this meeting was not for pleasure.

"As we stated two days ago, we are from the Bernadelli Insurance Society, and we have been assigned to curb the damages caused by you and your men, Vash the Stampede," James said to start. The older man smiled slightly and Langhorne spat, "What's so amusing?"

"I'm sorry…" He said, removing his hat. "We didn't properly introduce ourselves, but I am Doctor William Conrad, and this, this is _not_ Vash the Stampede, but his twin brother, Knives." Connor blinked and looked at James, mouthing the word 'Knives?', but the older of the two agents was not amused.

He leaned forward, "You mean to tell me that crazy man at the café was the real Vash?"

"Afraid so," Knives said slowly. "We were both to blame for the destruction of July City, only it is Vash who has been killing and destroying things since. As you saw the other day, he has… maniacal tendencies." He shook his head slowly and looked over at Conrad. As it was, they were going to miss the final run, and as much as it pained him to think of the life being drained from his sister this very evening, a small thing inside of him wanted to see it as well. However, he could not have these two men following him to the plant where he was sure his brother would be.

"But why don't you just say you aren't Vash then?" Connor asked curiously. He bit his lip, "I mean to say, if you go around accepting the label, wouldn't that mean more trouble for you than to just say 'he's my brother'?"

Knives started to laugh. It was a musical sound, although it sent goosebumps up James' back, and a few people in the coffee shop turned to look. He stopped and wiped a tear from his eye, "That, my dear man, is what I've asked myself for years, however, I _am_ as dangerous as my brother, so if people avoid me for that namesake, than so be it." Knives shook his head, "You two would best stop following me and my brother; you would be far safer."

"We won't," James spat, "There's no way we could… it's our _job_ and…" He trailed off, an odd expression had come to Knives' face. It was a mixture of fear, hatred, confusion and something else altogether. Suddenly those blue-aqua eyes had become wide. "What… is it..?"

"Get out of here now…" Knives spat, getting to his feet. He nodded to his guards and turned to Conrad, "It's _him_… He's _here_… That voice…" Knives cringed, it was in his head again, this voice, this strange voice that chilled him to the bone. He'd heard it before, once before in Little America before the construction workers disappeared without a trace. _Use it… Take out the trash, you remember how don't you? I'll show you if you don't… Please Master, let me refresh…_ "Get out of my head!!" Knives clutched his temples, startling the insurance agents to their feet.

He shot them a glance that scared even the bravest of men, "RUN NOW."

"We won't!" Langhorne had his gun up again and people in the coffee house were staring wide-eyed, but unlike the café, they weren't running. In fact, it was as if they were frozen to the spot… In fact, as James tried to place his finger on the trigger of his gun, he realized he too was paralyzed. He couldn't move a muscle, as if someone or something were controlling his movements!

"James! I can't move!" McPhee said, his heart pounding in his chest as Knives swung in wide circles, trying to find the source of the voice within his head. What was going on? Why had he turned crazy all of a sudden? Was the _real_ Vash coming? The door to the coffee shop opened and in walked a man in a white coat. He had the strangest black hair Connor had ever seen, it was almost blue, the light seemed to be absorbed into it. Underneath that hair was a yellow eye that pierced into his very soul. _This_ was the man controlling them! He had no doubt! "Let us go, please!"

"You wish to leave?" The man laughed. He had a soft voice that matched his almost feminine features. "No, you will be sacrifices to my master!" Suddenly the blue haired man dropped to his knees in front of Knives. "I am Legato Bluesummers. I am sorry Master for having been away for so long." He didn't look up even as Knives started to back away.

Knives could see that yellow eye peering up at him from the dark brows. This man… He could _remember_ this man… Legato… What was it about him… It was coming back to him… The door suddenly swung open again. Legato didn't budge, a smile came to his face. "The family has all arrived, how quaint."

Vash frowned, "You're stirring up trouble already I see…" Then he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door post, eyeing Knives' associates who all seemed to be frozen as well. "Continue, I'm just here for the show…"

"You _know_ this man?" Knives hissed, his eyes never leaving Legato's kneeling form.

"We've met," Legato replied for Vash. "He had an intriguing offer for me, but I declined."

Connor and James eyed each other, they had that much control now, for some reason the power of the man before them had lessened the moment the real Vash had arrived. Connor felt a very bad feeling come over him, like they might not make it out of this alive. So many evil men, not just bad, not the ordinary street-thug or gang leader he had run into over the years working for Bernadelli, but these men were _evil_. Only the doctor and the two bodyguards didn't radiate this feeling, they stood in stock horror at what was going to happen. Somehow they had to get out, had to run, why hadn't James listened to Knives when he warned them to leave? Why hadn't they escaped when they still had time?

Knives pulled from his coat the long silver gun Vash had given him two days before. It was loaded now, safety off, ready to fire, he lowered it to Legato's temple. "Just what _are_ you?"

"You're humble servant, Master… Forever yours since the moment you spared my life many years ago…" Legato oozed with devotion as he bowed before Knives. "Please, do me the pleasure of cutting down these insolent fools who wish to harm you, allow me to watch you cut them down as you did my captors…"

"I'll do no such thing!" Knives hissed, "What are you trying to pull here, Vash? Is this some sort of joke?"

Vash smiled, his eyes twinkling with delight, "Actually I thought it was kind of sweet how he's been following you around like a lost puppy… He just wants you to play with him." He stuck his tongue out and put his pinky finger to it waggled his fingers, "You know Knives, it might not be a bad idea if you played with us a bit, maybe you would get your memory back."

"He's not that sort any more, Vash!" Conrad hissed. Vash eyed him, he had forgotten about the good doctor and the two bodyguards. He remembered seeing the doctor from time to time, but had no love for the man, even though it was he who unlocked the very gate to the power of his angel arm. The doctor's expression hardened, "You would do well to remember what _you_ were, rather than trying to sort out your brother's memories. What happened to you, Vash? You were a sweet boy, a kind, gentle-hearted…"

"Knives! Knives is what happened to me!" Vash spat, pulling out his own gun now, aiming it toward the doctor, "You are nearly as much to blame as he! I remember quite well how I was, and I remember quite well that I was a fool for it! I want nothing more than to make my brother suffer for what he put me through! Perhaps then we will be able to settle our differences…"

"You're only making yourself suffer more by…" Conrad started but was instantly hushed, Legato was on his feet now. Suddenly, Knives started to clutch his left arm, and it sprouted into a huge knife. "Don't! What are you…"

Knives looked down in horror at what was about to happen. He felt the power rising through him, the sharp blades form down his arm and sprout up his neck. Legato was laughing within his mind, as if he were amused by the sheer simplicity of controlling his master. Knives couldn't gain control, his body turned to the insurance agents, he walked forward, his arm lifting to strike. "No! Don't make me do this!"

"But you've killed so many already," Vash laughed, "What harm will come from two more?" He was clapping, eager to see what would happen next. This was _quite_ the show, just as he had imagined it!

Legato was laughing, he turned his attention to the insurance agents, "Kill them, Master, show me your power once again!" Knives tried to regain control over his body however, tried to fight it as his glowing angel arm grew longer, but suddenly Connor's eyes went wide as he was the first to fall, one slice after another, chopped to bits…

Blood pooled on the floor, Knives could feel it under his shoes, as he turned to the next agent, it had happened so quickly, one man dead… James' eyes filled with horror and tears. Knives started to sob, tears fell from his eyes, _I'm so sorry… I didn't want this to happen…_ James almost seemed to know what he was thinking, as suddenly his eyes closed, tears rolled down his cheeks before he too fell beneath the blade.

When the deed was done, Knives fell to the ground in sorrow, Legato having set him free once again. He clutched his head, "No, no, no, no… I can't, I won't, don't make me, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… Forgive me, I…" He screamed.

"Murderer! You made him do it because you can't yourself!" Conrad screamed.

"Silence, insignificant insect," Legato's eyes were glowing with distaste. "We no longer need you," he started to clench his fist and Conrad choked and sputtered.

Knives' eyes went wide, suddenly aware that more would die... "I command you, don't kill him!"

William sucked in a breath of air and collapsed against his chair. He still held a hand to his chest as if Legato had tried killing him merely by looking at him.

"What would you wish me to do, Master?" Legato said to Knives, a smile on his lips as he received his first command from his long-absent superior.

"Release him, as well as my bodyguards."

"As you wish," Legato didn't move a muscle but the others went into motion immediately. Conrad stood to his feet and Wolfwood and Livio ran to Knives' side.

"Want us to kill him…"

"Let's get out of here…"

Knives shook his head, "You three, go back to camp and wait for me."

"What?!" Wolfwood gaped, "No way are we leavin' you here to die…" His finger twitched nervously on the trigger of his gun, "Let us take care of them for you…"

"LEAVE," Knives commanded at last and the three had no other choice but to follow his orders. They eyed Vash and the others wearily as they left the café; only Conrad gave the two insurance agents a last sad look. He wanted to think that Knives would be okay after this, he wanted to ask Knives to leave as well, but there were also so many other lives at stake, the whole café was still frozen, barely alive, breathing, eyes unable to move under Legato's control. He had to trust the young man, that he would make the right decision that would allow them all to be safe, he _did_ trust Knives…

Once the doctor had left, Vash moved from his frozen position, eyes eagerly taking in the bloody bodies of the dead insurance agents. He wanted more… more suffering, more death; more revenge for what Knives had done to him. The plant kneeled down next to McPhee's body, pulling his wallet out from his pants, and looking at the pictures within. "Look, he was married, how sweet…" He tossed the wallet away after taking the few dollars from within and shoving them into his own pocket. "You've murdered someone who has loved ones… what's it feel like? You used to love it. You laughed when you killed Rem. But you were right, Rem deserved to die…"

Knives was shaking, his arm tense and sore from the knives still protruding from the surface. Legato still held control of him. He couldn't move, but he could feel his left arm as if it were Legato's, itching to kill the other patrons of the restaurant. "I loved Rem… you know that!"

"Did you? Did you love her when you'd found out about Tessla?"

"She had nothing to do with it! Her and Conrad fought…"

Vash came up to him, his own angel arm was starting to form long sharp feathers up its length, as he clutched Knives by the throat. "Did they? Then why did Tessla die? You remember how you felt… you wanted to kill them for what they did to her poor dismembered body…"

Knives closed his eyes, he could see it… just barely… but the emotions that once ran through him were gone, forgotten, maybe hidden beneath the surface. Were these _his_ emotions or that of his brother? Knives couldn't quite understand… it all felt so foreign to him. "No… you're confusing me. You just want me to think that I'm evil, and I know I'm not!" His eyes opened and they glowed.

Laughing, Vash's angel arm started to throb. Knives could feel it running through his body, this energy, this unbelievable power. "Do you remember this? Do you remember how you made me destroy July City, hoping to kill all of the people who stood between you and your goal?" Vash grinned, "I won't use my power… but how about you? What do you say we replay July City? Perhaps you'll regain your memory."

His eyes wide in horror, Knives suddenly felt his angel arm responding to Vash's. The power over-shadowed Legato's control on him. The psychic backed away, "I shall retreat for now, Master, to watch this show." He grinned, his one visible eye crinkling in delight as he left the restaurant. Knives could see the people who were under his control slowly coming back to themselves.

There was a scream of horror, followed by another, followed by sheer panic. The room burst into a frenzy and Vash was laughing. His power was so great that Knives dropped to his knees. "No… stop!!"

"Don't stop!" His brother replied, a weapon, a gun of some sort was forming between them, Knives watched it in horror, unable to do anything. "Remember what it is like to kill everyone and have no regrets! You will suffer the way I have!"

The power overtook Knives. He closed his eyes; he felt like he would pass out, a light spread over his vision. Just as it was about to take him over, he had a clear moment, as if time stood still. Knives remembered the gun in his right hand… it had been there all along… And he lifted it to Vash's chest… the gun's firing was drowned out by the angel arm's powerful buzzing…

And then suddenly, all had gone quiet. Knives fell to his back, the power left him, and he closed his eyes; unconscious.

Had it been seconds, minutes, or hours later? Knives wasn't sure when he could open his eyes again. The world had been turned upside down. The restaurant, the city block… it was all gone. He sat in the midst of concrete and rubble, completely alone, in a mirror image of the moment in July City. He screamed.


	24. CH 23 Grandall Sea of Sand

_Howdy everyone! MillyT here! My delightfully great friend Dwellin did my beta for me this chapter (and I'm sure multiple other betas in the early stages) so first of all, my thanks goes to her for helping me out! Next off, thank you to everyone for your patience on this new chapter! Thanks to all of our reviewers – Aine of Knockaine, Demonkid, Qualia Des (a couple newbies! Thanks for reading this far!) Only a few chapters left until the real excitement begins – and I'm hoping to get us some more juicy stuff out before the end of the year, so stick with me until then!_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

**Chapter 23**

**Grandal & The Sea of Sand**

**[Stardate: 11-01-0110-18:48]**

The small town of Grandal sat perched between a large dead zone and a rocky edifice overlooking the sea of sand. The sea of sand was considered an impassable zone by the early colonists, and spread far north and south, marking off the livable and unlivable parts of the planet. There had been a few from time to time to venture out into this sea, but they rarely returned; those who did told stories of how caravans were swallowed up by the giant sand worms that patrolled the area.

Sand worms were giant beasts, which lived on the planet for thousands of years before the settlers landed. Most likely they would also live thousands of years afterward as well. No one questioned the power of the two hundred foot plus beasts with their giant jaws that could easily swallow a toma in one bite. Some said these creatures were organized. In the early days when people still used the Lost Technology, there had been scouting crews in order to research these strange beasts. The crews returned with scans of large caverns, colonies of sandworms and huge queen beasts. There was an entire hierarchy to the race that fascinated the scientists. But eventually with the dwindling plants, scientists turned to helping the humans survive, rather than studying the planet's wildlife.

There were however, a few advances that helped the humans upon this sandy planet. Namely the taming of the toma, the strange bird-like lizards that roamed the sandy sea in herds. They were carnivorous rather than vegetarians, and tended to eat the small strange six-legged lizards. Immediately the toma were raised for food, and eventually they became domesticated. They were raised to eat the strange insects that roamed the planet naturally, and after a time a wealthy landlord could easily keep a hundred on his property without feeling his stock were suffering from starvation. Occasionally the birds ate their own dead, but owners rarely told a potential buyer if this were the case. The buyer might find, in a pinch, their mount ate their owner instead of starving out in the desert rather than the other way around, but sellers _never_ mentioned this fact.

In the city of Grandal, one man made a living selling these birds to the foolhardy. There was a town about 50 iles over a bay in the sea of sand, and only the birds were easily able to traverse it, outrunning any sandworm that might appear. Even vehicles could not outdistance these birds on the shifting sands that covered this long stretch. Many travelers took the long way around the bay via sandsteamer, a few took caravans during the sandworm's breeding season in the winter months when they migrated west, but the rest took the toma across the stretch. The man, his name was Howard Cotswold, made a good living and even owned the only plant in town. There were rumors he might eventually buy the entire town and rename it after himself, but Howard was an honest man and never dreamed of such a thing.

One afternoon, Howard was out on his ranch, counting heads, when he looked across the stretch of sand in the distance. On most days, the sands teemed with sandworms, cresting the surface of the sand, like stories of whales and dolphins from old Earth. Today was unusually quiet, but for the squawks and gurgles from the toma. The sand itself was one smooth rolling hill after another, brushed by the winds on occasions, whistling when a storm was on the horizon, but otherwise calm.

However, breaking the silence which had lasted all morning, an irregular cloud of sand and dust rose from the distant shore. Howard pulled his mount to a halt, the toma whining and fussing below him at the sudden stop. He lifted his binoculars from where they hung at his throat to his eyes. Slowly, he adjusted the lenses with his middle finger, waiting for the object causing the cloud to come into focus. When it had, Howard's bottom jaw dropped open, incredulously looking at what he saw. It was a caravan, coming from the south. Leading the group were two toma with _female_ riders. What fools were these? And how had they come near the fifty miles without being harmed by the sandworms at this time of year?

Letting the binoculars fall back to his chest, Howard spurned his toma to a gallop down the outcropping and into the sea of sand to meet the travelers. Since they were making good time he was able to meet them within a matter of minutes, Howard pulling his toma hide hat from his head and running a dusty gloved hand through his hair. They came to a stop a few yarz away from him, and one of the two women moved her toma to meet him. She was a short thing, dark hair, and petite, a white cape flaring out behind her like a little fairy sitting upon her mount. The toma wore a neck shield with odd engravings in the leather that made it look like the beast had large sad eyes. The effect was startling, something Howard had never seen before.

"Howdy Ma'am," he said politely, his hat still off, now sitting between his knees. "Welcome to Grandal, my name is Howard Cotswold."

The woman nodded, a smile coming to her dust sprinkled face, her almost lilac gray eyes lighting up at a kind welcome. "My name is Meryl Stryfe, I am from the Bernadelli Insurance Society."

Howard cocked his head to the side slightly, "What are you folks doing all the way out here?" He scratched his chin with his large gloved hand; "Last I knew no one had sent for a claim from the Southern parts in quite some time."

Meryl shook her head; "We're traveling northward with a group of priests." She indicated the caravan behind her. Howard glanced toward the group, his eyes lingering on the other toma and its rider, a blond woman with bright, friendly blue eyes. The woman smiled and waved at him in a friendly manner. He was surprised someone like her would be in such rough terrain. Although, upon further consideration, both women were a tad on the feminine side for travelers through the sea of sand.

However, when Howard noticed the drivers within the trucks that followed behind them, he suddenly realized how these two had survived. They were followed by a group of harsh looking fellows, many of them with odd gleams in their eyes, and looking nothing like priests at all. But then again, he had heard of a strange new church in the north that fitted this description. Howard moved his eyes back to the woman in front of him, deciding he'd ask his own parish priest that Sunday about the group.

"Well, all are welcome here in Grandal, we get quite a few travelers in these parts so you'll find plenty of shops, hotels, restaurants, and farms." He nodded to Meryl's toma, "She looks like she could use a good stabling, and I own one over the hill just there," he turned, pointing over his shoulder where his toma were grazing for sand mites. "You are both welcome, I have very good rates."

"I'll have to talk to…" Meryl hesitated, "That's very kind of you. Is there a place we might set up camp this evening?" She looked as if she had some other thing to say, but she held her tongue, instead keeping to business. Howard wondered if he shouldn't send his wife to talk to these ladies later, thinking perhaps she would open up to a woman. He wasn't sure, but she had the look of someone in an uncomfortable position with this group of rough priests.

The rancher nodded, "Campground is right past my ranch actually, I own the land myself. It's $$100 a night, but my wife serves three meals and you get all the water you can drink." He put his hat back on his head, "Tell your drivers to follow me, and I'll show you the way."

"Thank you," the young insurance agent said, turning her toma around. Howard waited for her to converse with the drivers and then joined the other woman. They soon started out all at once, up the long hill out of the sea of sand, which was still oddly silent for this time of day. The rancher was a bit at odds with this feeling he had, something not quite right, but the idea of getting new patrons outweighed his suspicions.

Within a few hours, the caravan had parked in the campground and started to settle down for the night. Howard sat within his office, waiting for the women to return with payment. He heard a knock at the door and he looked up, "Come in…"

To his astonishment, a tall blond man entered the room. He wore a blue dress-shirt rolled to just above his elbows, low-cut blue jeans with a black belt, and black boots. His blond hair was spiked up in the air, giving him a lofty look. His eyes were a cold blue, but his mouth was slack in a neutral manner. However, he walked with a slight limp, as if he had a rock in his boot. Howard sat back in his chair, "Welcome, my name is…"

"Yes, I know, Mr. Cotswold, thank you for allowing us to stay here." The man stepped forward his hand extended, "My name is Alex Millions." The name didn't seem familiar to his lips, as if he weren't used to using aliases, but Howard hardly noticed. His whole attention was focused on the amazingly strong grip this young man had when they shook hands. This strength, Howard could tell, was only a fraction of that which lay below the skin, and attested to leadership over a large group of people. It also told Howard that this man was not easily fooled, nor frightened, and a strength like this could have driven a hundred men over dangerous grounds.

But even with this knowledge, when Howard leaned back from their exchange, he set his hands upon the desk. "I am impressed by your knowledge of the sea, I have never seen a group travel it during the fall."

Alex waved his hand to the chair across from Howard, a motion that he wished to sit, and Howard nodded his consent. The man smiled, "But this late in the fall, it's possible for breeding season to have already started."

"Yes but…" Howard was stunned. Rarely did young men these days understand the workings of the sandworms. "But it was chancy bringing a large group out this early. Normally the season doesn't begin before January."

"That is why we set toma at the front of the group, they spook easily with the vibrations from sandworms. Read them right and you can avoid them completely, I'm sure a man who has so much experience with the birds would understand that." Alex's cool eyes warmed with the compliment to the other man. Obviously he had much experience with sweet-talk.

Howard shook his head with an amazed expression. He stood, "You have earned my respect, young man. How did you come by this education? I know very few men who still know the habits of the local wildlife. Many of them are three times your age, and most long since stopped teaching."

Alex stood as well; he pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it over. "This is your fee for tonight and tomorrow." Then he smiled a mysterious smile, "And where I learned it? I studied them myself for fifty years." The young man turned and exited the office without another word.

The rancher blinked, but he couldn't have been a day over twenty-seven! How could he have studied… Instead of thinking further upon it, Howard opened the envelope; there were three $$100 bills, more than enough for three days. He sat back down in his chair, wondering about the young man, his entourage, and the two young women. The days that followed became a story he would tell his grandchildren years later.

**Business & Pleasure**

**[Stardate: 11-01-0110-22:48]**

For the first time in nearly a month, Meryl knew what it felt like to be in an actual bed. She'd almost forgotten how it felt to have actual sheets, a warm comforter, and soft toma down pillows. Everything smelled freshly laundered, and she herself was fresh out of a long steaming bath, her hair still wet, tucked back behind her ears. She sat in bed with the little tableside lamp turned on as she read through her debriefing that came fresh from Bernadelli a few hours before by telegram.

Milly came out of the shower with her hair wrapped in a towel, her long pajamas a bit wrinkled from being packed but clean. She was brushing her teeth, her toothbrush lazily moving in and out of her mouth as she went. It had been a very long time since they'd started this last leg of their journey to Jeneora Rock: a long and lonely one.

"So what did Mr. Bernadelli have to say, Meryl?" Milly asked, pulling the toothbrush out of her mouth to return to the small bathroom that had been provided for them. Mr. Cotswold was a wealthy man who owned more than just a ranch and a campground, but also a hotel. Meryl had decided to spring for the costs, only to find out that their room was paid for already. Howard led them to the nicest suite his own wife had decorated. It turned out to be a large room with two soft beds, a table and chairs, a dresser and a bath fully stocked with all the amenities a girl could ask for. Already they had used the shampoos, conditioners, the fluffy towels, the sweet bath sprays, the cookies and coffee maker set up in the room, along with a fan placed on the ceiling that slowly stirred up the cool night air coming from the open window. The curtains were flapping calmly in the breeze that came in from the outside. Far in the distance they could hear the toma squawking, a sound both women doubted one could get away from in this town.

Meryl glanced up at her partner, a strangely vacant look. After leaving May City, the man they thought was Vash the Stampede, had told her a very long story. It was a story that left Meryl breathless afterward, completely speechless as he took his leave of her, and confused as for what to do next. The Vash they were after was a horribly despicable man… but one whom she and Milly had run into on numerous occasions. The man they had been traveling with was his brother, Knives, a much kinder man, but one with some dark secret hidden behind his eyes of what even he was unsure. The story played out in so much truth that Meryl had no doubt, from the bits she had collected over the past few years, it was all fact. There really were two men, twins, both traveling the planet, both being called Vash the Stampede, and both wrecking havoc in city after city: one on purpose, the other by accident.

The month that followed, Meryl withdrew completely from the camp. She forced Milly to stay on her best working behavior, which included staying away from the men-folk. Milly had initially argued, but once her superior's orders were given, they were set in stone. Milly had not been allowed to speak to Nicholas, nor Livio, but in passing moments within the camp. It was Meryl's idea to plunge straight through the sea of sand, and she and Milly took the lead, carefully leading the group away from sandworms, although for some reason, the sea had remained calm and empty.

There was reasoning behind Meryl's strict orders. She needed to get back on the trail of the real Vash the Stampede, no matter how horrible he was. The only clue she had was he would be in Jeneora Rock, and that is where they headed. All of this, except for the details too unbelievable for even Mr. Bernadelli to believe – Knives and Vash had powers that could destroy an entire city block – she sent the moment they came into Grandal. It only took a few hours for a reply from headquarters.

"Mr. Bernadelli says he will send a team to meet us in Jeneora," Meryl said, looking up from the telegram. Milly came to sit in the bed beside Meryl's, carefully combing out her long wet hair. "Once we have identified Vash the Stampede, our jobs will be over, and we can go home. They will take care of the rest."

Milly's eyes were wide. Her mind went through a rotation of knowing that within a week they would be leaving Wolfwood and Livio behind. Within a week, the Bernadelli men would come and take care of the Humanoid Typhoon problem. Within a week, she would be sitting back in a stuffy cubicle with only a silly cactus to talk to as she typed out endless stacks of papers in triplicate. Within a week, their whole new exciting lives would be over! Suddenly she felt tears come to her eyes and she turned, stifled her feelings, and pulled herself together the way she'd seen Meryl do a million times. Finally, she set down her comb, "Is that what you really want, Meryl?"

"Of course…" Meryl's words trailed off. She had been so sure, the last few weeks as they approached this new city, her mind had been on one thing, getting Vash the Stampede, putting him behind bars, and getting on with her life. But inside, deep in her heart of hearts, the one that Milly could always seem to read, she wasn't quite so sure. "I mean, we've been put through so much hassle by this guy, even from the very beginning! If we'd known it was him back in December our job would have been so much easier. Maybe we could have even gone back to our families before we had to tramp around the Outer. Haven't you been saying how scared you were of Vash and how much you wanted to go back and see your Ma and Pops?"

"Well, yes, I suppose," Milly said slowly. "But now that we know who Mr. Vash is… I mean, he's not all that scary of a guy really… I still think he has quite the crush on you…"

"That could have gotten me killed!!" Meryl was up in arms; she was nearly in hysterics and was already standing on top of her bed. "He SHOT us Milly! Don't you get it! He shot Mr. Knives too! The man killed how many people in cold blood just because he felt like it! I told you the story! It was all true down to the fact that those poor men left their families behind just because Vash had some stupid vendetta against his brother's past!" She crossed her arms over her chest, her hands made into balls; she could have just punched the jerk right then and there. "Plus... PLUS… that jerk kissed me, he's been following us, and there are probably tons of unspeakable horrors he's committed that we don't even know about! I'm sorry Milly, but he has no crush on me, the psychopathic bastard has been toying with us the entire time!"

Her younger friend didn't speak. She couldn't think of anything to reply to Meryl's rants. The little girl jumped off the bed and poured herself another cup of coffee and set down by the window with it between her hands. She sipped it hot and black, almost in defiance and perhaps to show how tough she was. Milly could tell it was hurting Meryl very deeply to know that the guy she had a secret crush on was actually a bonified murderer. It also didn't help that his brother, as sweet of a man as he was, had never once attempted to speak to her for the weeks that followed, he kept entirely to himself, as if his gentle conversations and heroic actions were all for show up until then. Or perhaps he had been ashamed of what his brother caused him to do… To Milly, Knives seemed like a very humble, yet intelligent man, who feared what others thought of him to the extent it made him hard. Meryl was just the kind of girl who could either raise him up or crush him with a single word; and perhaps she had.

Just as Meryl stood, deciding she had had enough and wanted to go to bed, a knock came at the door. She jerked, dropping the now empty coffee cup from her hands. It dropped with a dull thud against the floor, rolled until it hit the handle, and then stopped. She swallowed, eyeing Milly, "You didn't order room service, did you?"

Milly shook her head as another heavy knock came from the door. It was a very masculine knock, followed by silence. "You could always look out the peephole…"

Meryl turned, glaring at her friend. "I _know_ that… and you _know_ I can't reach it!" She pointed fiercely at the peephole that was situated at a height for probably a man, rather than a petite woman such as herself. But instead of waiting for Milly to get up to take a look, Meryl picked up a chair, swung it over in front of the door, hopped up on it with ease, and peered out. "WHO IS IT?"

"It's me… Um… Is Milly in there with you, Miss Stryfe?" The voice was that of Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Meryl turned her glare on Milly again, who tried, unsuccessfully, at hiding below her comforter, but could still feel the gaze burning into her head. Jumping down from the chair, Meryl moved it aside and after unbolting the various locks on the door, swung it open. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned or a woman who had to use a chair to see through the peephole! Meryl had turned immediately into a burning Diablo the moment she saw a bouquet of flowers behind Wolfwood's back.

"And just what do YOU want at this time of night?!"

Nicholas swallowed, the hand wrapped around the bouquet of flowers tightened with fear. "I well… I have a delivery of sorts…" He licked his lips nervously and nodded to Meryl, "Do you mind if I come in for a moment?"

"YES, I do!" Meryl replied, her scowl was easy to form, she wasn't in the best of moods, especially knowing that Milly was getting flowers from some stranger who she had told time and time again _not_ to flirt with! The girl in question was still hiding under her covers, only her hands showing above them. Meryl waved, "But Milly's over there, so state your business and get out of here. We have a long day tomorrow."

"Yes Ma'am!" Wolfwood replied, coming in now past Meryl who closed the door, miraculously without slamming it. He came up to the edge of the bed and then turned on Meryl. "First thing is first, these are for you." Nicholas shoved the flowers into Meryl's startled arms. She blinked, looked at them, and then up at him, and then back down again.

Startled, Meryl felt the bouquet slipping and scrambled to take a good grasp of the pretty red flowers…carnations, weren't they? She remembered seeing them in the museum. "But…what… I wouldn't… I didn't know you…"

The priest laughed, "They aren't from _me,_ heavens no!" He waved his hands and sat down on the edge of the bed, accidentally sitting on Milly's toes. The girl pulled them back with a startled squeak before appearing above the other side of the bed. Nicholas nodded to her before patting her knee through the covers, "Sorry about that Big Girl," he said with a slight drawl before turning again to Meryl. "Those are from Spikey himself. He wanted to apologize for…"

"If he wanted to apologize for anything he should have just…" Meryl started to rant, but upon smelling the flowers she slowed and turned. "What did he want to apologize for?"

"For not telling you the truth from the beginning. It wasn't his intention to keep you in the dark for that long. But the moment you showed up, Mr. Nasty sent him a card saying he'd do something to you both." Wolfwood bit his lip, "I assume you know what Vash is capable of now?"

Milly and Meryl both nodded very slowly. Milly buried her head in her covers again, and Meryl in her bouquet of flowers. Her nose bumped into something, and Meryl fished it out, a card had been shoved between the carnations. She pulled it out cautiously to read, _"Please join me at dinner tomorrow night, Knives."_ Meryl blushed and shoved the card back into the bouquet.

Meryl frowned, it sounded too much like a dinner date… and yet, having traveled with this group long enough, and the fact Wolfwood delivered the flowers, she wondered if his intentions were to drive her off. "He knows we're following him to Jeneora Rock, right? No matter what, we have to finish our jobs, no matter if it will mean our lives."

Nicholas glanced between the two girls. They were so close to his age, and yet they seemed just so _young_. However, he knew from experience even the young had amazing mental and physical strength. He'd met quite a few of them over the years. "Well, I really don't know anything about it. You'd have to talk to Spikey about it. Personally, if I were you two, I'd head back home as fast as I could away from Jeneora Rock. I'm surprised myself that May City didn't turn into another Lost City." He stood then, pulling his suit jacket down, straightening it over his belt. Apparently his hand caught on something he had forgotten about, and he dug it from his pocket.

"I nearly forgot," he held out his clenched fist in front of Milly's head. "Hold out your hand, I've got something for you too."

The insurance girl awkwardly lowered her blanket and held out her right hand, palm up below his. Nicholas dropped a bracelet into it. He smiled. "Okay, delivery complete." Wolfwood turned on his heel and started to turn, but Milly spoke up suddenly.

"Was this from Mr. Knives too?" Her eyebrows were knitted in confusion. It wasn't as if he had anything to apologize to _her_ for. He'd treated her kindly from the beginning.

Nicholas stopped. He fished in his front pocket and put a cigarette in his mouth before looking over his shoulder. "No, that one is from me." And then before she could reply, he disappeared.

Milly and Meryl stared at each other, then down at their gifts. Meryl couldn't find words. The truth was, neither girl was prepared for the kindnesses these men had given them… nor could they find it in their vocabulary to speak about it the rest of the night. The unspoken rule was it had never happened. Except the next morning Meryl pressed one of the carnations in one of her books, and Milly slipped the bracelet on her wrist, hiding it under her watch.

**Dashboard Confessional**

**[Stardate: 11-02-0110-8:48]**

Small green birds pecked outside of the tent at sand mites. They would squeak and chirp from time to time, the small curls rising above their heads bobbing as they fluttered around over the sand. Watching from just inside of the tent, Knives ran his fingers through his light blond hair, wondering if it was time to get a haircut. The spikes were growing nearly as long as his brother's, and within a week he wouldn't have been surprised to be mistaken for Vash merely by looks alone. He stood from his cot, pacing out of the tent, scaring the little green birds into flight. They squeaked protests as they flew into the sky and out of sight.

Walking down the row of tents, Knives peered into the open flap of Chapel's. The old man was snoozing in his wheelchair, head on his chest, snoring quietly. From this angle, the man hardly looked menacing. In fact, he just looked like an old decrepit man, that had seen too much of the world, each death and horrible atrocity etching lines into his face.

Knives could remember clearly the day when he met the old man; of course, he wasn't really old at the time, but in his mid-twenties. He hated Chapel the moment he set eyes on him. It wasn't as if he wanted to join the Eye of Michael, but Conrad had given him little choice. He was a harder young man then, Knives wanted to trust people, but they threw him out in the cold time and time again, beat him, carved scars into his body, and when he gave up and wandered the desert, he was willing to allow himself to die. And then, Livio and Wolfwood found him. Then he remembered the doctor looking at him with those caring eyes, those same eyes that had asked him if he loved Rem all those years ago. Knives wanted to cry again, and he did, the teardrops rolling down his dusty cheeks even as Bill shaved his face for the first time in months.

The young priest had not recognized Knives the moment he stepped out of the doctor's office. But Livio did, Livio had become an instant follower, and so had the rest of the Eye of Michael. The moment Chapel was introduced to this immortal plant; he bowed deeply with a sparkle to his eye. Knives hated him and what he and the other priests were doing. Of course, they put a stop to the human experimentation soon enough. Many of the priests left the group, all saying that Knives was an imposter, that he couldn't be a plant and not want those around him to experience such awesome power as those they could bestow on a plant's follower. It made him sick.

Those that remained were loyal to him now. They did not question his motives, or his reasoning. If he said jump, they jumped. The only one who remained oddly distant was this old man Chapel. Knives had never managed to figure out why he remained when originally he ordered the experiments, the utter horrors that were created in laboratories. Ones like Livio and Nicholas. He should have been the first to leave the group, but instead he followed Knives' instructions immediately and continued on with them. Although, Knives was never sure why.

Chapel's head snapped up as the blond plant stood in the doorway. The innocence in sleep had melted away instantly. Chapel's eyes almost glowed with some sort of craving, hunger for power, or some other such menace that Knives took an involuntary step backwards. "Is there something I can help you with, Master?"

Knives' eyebrows knitted to the annoying nickname, but he shook it off. "No, nothing. I was merely considering going into town. Have you seen my men?"

"My boys…" Chapel said, a glow coming to his eyes as his beard cracked open with a smile. "Livio went with the doctor I'm afraid, and I'm not sure about Nicholas since you sent him out last night."

His eyes opening slightly, Knives had nearly forgotten about those flowers he had sent to Meryl via the priest. He licked his lower lip for a moment, realizing how chapped and rough they were. He still dressed nicely, still kept himself groomed, but he had been careless about it since Meryl had ceased speaking to him. Did Wolfwood get a good reply? Would Meryl come to dinner with him? Knives' heart beat a bit faster in his chest as he turned, only casting, "Thanks," over his shoulder as he went in search for the young priest.

The sooner he was away from Chapel, the better he felt. From time to time, he wished the old man would just die. But internally he had a feeling it would be a very long time, like something in those experiments he had been working on could have turned him just as immortal as Knives and Vash. The blond-haired plant shrugged off this thought as he went.

When Knives got to the row of parked trucks at the edge of the camp, he spotted Nicholas sitting behind the wheel of a truck where another priest was leaned over under the hood, examining something. The other priest, an older man with brawny muscles and a short build, held a wrench in one hand, and stood up a moment later, "Alright, try it now."

Wolfwood leaned over and turned the key. The truck roared to life, then sputtered a moment later. Nicholas rolled his eyes, his hands coming up to the wheel in defeat, "Well Simon, I don't know, maybe we should clean the fuel line? Sounds like something's clogging it."

"Could be," Simon replied, wiping his hands on an old rag. "I'll unhook it." He turned, noticed Knives, and bowed slightly as he passed to go to the supply truck for supplies. Nicholas watched him go, then saw his master standing watching him, and he hopped out of the cab and did a small bow himself, even though the grin on his face showed it was merely for kicks rather than true admiration.

"I knew this one was giving us trouble, the moment we shut it down yesterday it kicked out a cough like a granny hawking up chewing tobacco." Wolfwood chuckled to himself and pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket the moment he was out of the shade from the truck. "So what can I do for you, boss?"

Knives crossed his hands over his chest and looked around casually, even though he was attempting to make sure no one was within hearing range. When he was satisfied, he said, "Did she get them okay?"

The priest's eyes lit up and he waved Knives over to the truck and sat down again behind the wheel, legs sticking out of the open door. "Yes, she got them alright. Ranting like a banshee about how dangerous you and your brother are; so loud I could hear them out in the hall before I knocked. But the moment I shoved those flowers at her, she shut up instantly."

"She see the note?"

Nicholas nodded, "Yeah she saw it. Read it too from what I could gather." He slid his sunglasses up on his nose now and with only his eyebrows quirking up, added, "You really like that little thing don't you? It's not just about protecting her from Vash anymore, is it?"

He would have stumbled backwards if Knives hadn't trained himself not to look shocked. His lips pressed together, and Wolfwood laughed. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Think of this as your dashboard confessional." He patted the car's wheel with a gentle hand and added, "If it makes you feel better, I have a thing for the blond… even with my so called vows." He sighed, his sunglasses slipping down off his nose, "But don't you dare tell Chapel, he'd kill me."

"That he would!" Knives replied with a laugh. The momentary tension relieved, he waved at the town a little way away. "I'm headed into town to get a haircut."

"Gonna get spiffied up for the girlie are ya?" Wolfwood drawled purposely. He chuckled, "You want a guard with you? Simon can handle this on his own…"

Knives shook his head slowly, "No, I think I'll go on my own. Just… keep an eye on camp. We haven't heard a thing from Vash in awhile, but I have a feeling there was something up with the sandworms being oddly absent yesterday."

Wolfwood's body tightened, it was obvious in the way his jaw set clamped. "You think the Beast...?"

"If my assumptions are correct," his master replied. "So keep an eye out, he could be anywhere."

"Will do," the priest said, standing at attention, hand posed over his forehead in a mock salute. "When Livio gets done with the doc I'll send him on patrol."

Without another word, Knives turned and strolled out of the camp and down toward town. It worried him he hadn't seen much from Vash since their meeting at the quick draw tournament. Did he really mean what he said about leaving them alone until they made it to Jeneora Rock? Or was it a bluff? They only had a few weeks left, but Knives wondered what his brother was up to.

**Mystery of the Church**

**[Stardate: 11-01-0110-12:48]**

A two weeks' drive from Grandal laid the city of Jeneora Rock. It wasn't a very large city, but it had one distinguishing factor that made it stand out from the rest. A huge towering rock stood like a monument pointing to the sky in the middle of the city. Upon the top sat a church. On one rock face there were a dozen windmills, slowly turning in the calm afternoon air. During certain times of the years, the windmills powered the entire town, saving the few plants below the trouble. The city was originally built there because of the ship that had crashed, as well as the towering rock face, but eventually it grew because of the church.

Now a church of the Eye of Michael, fifty years before the building was a Christian church with white washed walls, fancy stained glass windows and a beautifully sleek cross that adorned the top. One could be anywhere within twenty miles of the structure and see that cross glimmering in the afternoon sunlight. People traveled from neighboring towns for Sunday service there. The whole town grew steadily, marking the halfway point between May City and Augusta, businesses flourished; the town became rich and prosperous.

Then one day, curiously, the cross was taken down from the church's spire. Some thought it was to be refurbished; after all, it had seen its share of sandstorms in the past twenty years, but they never put it back up again. The church services were still held every Sunday afternoon and evening, and there were Wednesday night services as usual. But during the rest of the week, the building was closed down. At one point the church was always open, welcoming in strays to the flock. Now it set quietly waiting for the majority of the week.

Except at night. Someone swore they saw lights up on top of the hill at night, and could hear voices coming from the church. When people went to investigate, they always came home empty handed and confused. No one was quite sure what to make of the odd church until the pilgrims started to arrive. After awhile even these strangely clad fellows calling themselves priests, wearing crosses on necklaces, on cufflinks and carrying strangely shaped cross packages started arriving in droves. They always made stops to the plant facility before going up the long walk to the church at the top and disappearing. But still the normal services were held during certain times of the week, but people chose not to make the hike up the hillside as frequently, and eventually, they stopped going at all.

The pilgrims still came on regular intervals, but the townsfolk never asked questions. They were like ghosts, passing through the town, stopping briefly to buy supplies on their way out, but rarely mingling with the people who lived there. The priests seemed oddly discordant with the rest of society; odd sallow looks on their faces and strange lights in their eyes. The only reason the townsfolk didn't say a word about it was because the pilgrims paid out a lot of money for supplies and kept the town's finances in check. Eventually, it all became just a regular thing, only travelers of a normal kind asking questions about the odd priests.

Then, about eight years ago, a new group appeared. They were like shadows, weaving in and out of the alleyways of the town. Some were huge and monstrous; others small and malformed, some others quite normal like the man who played a saxophone on Tuesday nights in the saloon at the edge of town. A year ago they disappeared just as mysteriously as they had appeared. The saxophone player never reappeared. A strangely handsome young man with hair so black it had a blue tinge to it joined him. His golden brown eyes were so bright as to be yellow. He called himself Legato Bluesummers, and he sat alone at the bar many nights eating whatever the cook had on special.

Tonight he finished up the chicken cordon bleu and was starting on a piece of angel food cake. Most nights he remained very quiet, paying his bill and leaving without saying much of a word to anyone but perhaps the saxophone player. He would disappear for a month at a time, and then return again without anyone knowing where he had gone. Legato had returned from one of these trips a few months back and had not left again. He appeared to be waiting for someone.

It was on this night as he finished his cake that a man walked into the saloon. His hair lay plastered around his ears as if he had not washed it in some time; it looked greasy and unkempt, as did the rest of his attire. His face was lightly covered with stubble, and when he peered around the room, his eyes immediately fell on Legato. The man sauntered over and sat down next to him with a bony sigh. He clutched at his left arm vaguely, digging his fingers in almost as if to rip into the skin, and then relaxed a moment later.

Legato eyed him, not recognizing him at first, but a moment later he _knew_, and an amused smirk came to his thin lips. "Time has not been good to you."

"Shut the hell up," the stranger snapped, snapping his fingers at the bartender. The young man ran over and the stranger ordered a pitcher of beer. Then he glared at Legato. "He's on his way, you'd best be up to your side of the bargain."

The telepath laughed, it was an oddly bubbly sound for someone with such a dark expression on his face. "I knew you would fail. My Master is…"

"Don't call him that, he doesn't even care about you and your little army, and you know it."

"That will change," Legato replied, pushing his plate away from him as the bartender gave the stranger his beer. "And when it does, I will be the first to have the honor of killing you with my own bare hands." He stood up, but found a very tight hold on his wrist. Legato didn't squirm at the man's grasp, merely eyed him with disgust, waiting for him to continue.

"If he doesn't, I'll have the pleasure of killing _you_," with that, the stranger looked up with his oddly glowing aqua eyes. Vash the Stampede's signature Diablo grin menacingly spread across his face. "So if you care about your life, do it and do it quickly the moment Knives gets here."

Legato pulled away suddenly the moment Vash loosened his grip on his wrist. His nose crinkled, "And you might spare a moment for a shower," he hissed, and turned, brushing the feeling of the man's grasp off of his wrist as he left the saloon.

To those who sat watching the display, no one heard the interchange; it had been all hushed whispers. But they did wonder what could have made the handsome man's countenance change so drastically from peaceful to hideously angry. Legato disappeared from the saloon with a definite expression that could have melted the hull of a space ship.

Vash, however, returned to his beer, pouring himself a large glass as he sat in a foul mood. A month had passed since the quick draw tournament and Elendira had left him high and dry. The horrid cross dresser had taken his defeat as her chance to leave, although he was sure she hadn't changed sides, merely waited somewhere for the odds to shift once again into her favor. Perhaps she was still sore about her car. Midvalley was nowhere to be found either. Vash had passed day in and day out traveling alone, unceasingly, making his way to Jeneora Rock before his brother did.

He was smelly, beaten up by the gang that eventually caught up to him after he realized the tournament had used up his last remaining ammo, and quite pissed off. His trail through the Outer did not take him through one town until now, and he had not seen civilization for a very long span of time. Civilization didn't seem to want to see him either, people in the bar gave him a fair amount of space, and Vash was glad, he didn't want to bother with the pathetic insects anyway. He wanted to drink, to take his mind off of the pain that wracked his body in spasms.

At first, the gunshot to his mechanical arm had not affected the workings. But after being out in the sand too long without repair, it started to twitch, and his fingers would cramp, unmoving for minutes or hours at a time. The gun, he couldn't even use the gun! That was the first thing to go bad, and now it rested within his arm like a hunk of lead, weighing him down as he walked. He wasn't used to having an appendage that could not be used, but he knew that trying to grow one back would take too much energy, and fixing it would take much more than the tools of a simple repair shop. It was, after all, lost techonology.

His other arm, the one in which possessed the plant seed, acted up as usual. Something had been horribly wrong with the experiments that set it to working moments before July City was destroyed. It always hurt him, and the pain gradually ate away at his thought processes until he could no longer think about anything but getting to Jeneora and facing his brother. Tonight he'd drink until the pain went away. Perhaps he would drink until his brother arrived, although with the proximity to Legato, and most likely whatever remained of the Gung-Ho Guns, Vash wondered if it were such a good idea.

"I'm sorry to say this Sir," the bartender said finally, standing over Vash. The gunman hadn't even felt his presence in front of him until the man spoke up. "But you're offending paying guests… I'll sell you whatever booze you need if you would please leave."

Vash's eyes narrowed, but instead of snarling at the man, he stood, "You have rooms here don't you?"

"Why yes but…"

He dug in his pocket for what little cash he had managed to save from before Elendira disappeared, and thrust it at the bartender. "This enough for two bottles of Wild Turkey and a room?"

The young man counted up the wrinkled cash and nodded, going behind the counter and picking up the bottles, and for good measure, a glass. Vash snatched the bottles up; ignoring the small shot glass and nodded to the stairs that led to the second story inn. "Which room?"

"Let me get you a key," the bartender scrambled away, the smell was overwhelming, the mixture of dried beer and body odors that wafted off the stranger nearly bowled him over. He came back a moment later, "Twenty-two, it's got a shower," he nearly threw the key at Vash and backed away.

Vash turned the moment he caught the key and stormed up the stairs and down the hall to the room. He shoved the key in the lock and pushed his way in, setting the bottles of Wild Turkey down hard onto a desk with dull thuds before closing the door and locking it. Vash paced over to the window, looking up at the church on the hillside, before turning to the bathroom.

He received quite a shock the moment he spotted himself in the mirror. Never before had he allowed himself to look this downtrodden, this dirty, this horribly unlike himself! Vash involuntarily hissed at his own reflection, returned for one of the bottles of Wild Turkey, and started the bath.


	25. CH 24 Double Dating

_Hi everyone! Where did January go? How did it get to be February already? Again, my apologies for taking so long to get this chapter out, I've been making wedding plans (May 23rd!) so things have been pretty hectic. Don't know when our next chapter is coming but Dwellin and I are still working to get it completed (she might even be back to writing with me again! Yay!) Anyway, thanks again to our reviewers, Aine and Erin, you two are the best! Thanks to everyone else who has read this far but haven't reviewed, I hope your inner romantics enjoy this chapter! Thanks again for reading! MillyT_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

* * *

Chapter 24

**Sweet Seconds**

**[Stardate: 11-02-0110-17:00]**

Ice cream. The moment Meryl left the hotel room that evening, that's all Milly could think about. She needed ice cream, and lots of it. She smacked her lips together and went through her wallet trying to figure out how much she could spare for a nice treat. Then, after locking up the room, she headed down to the lobby to find out where she might pick up a cold snack.

Of course, her mind wasn't entirely on ice cream. It was partially on the little bracelet Nicholas had given her, and her fingers unconsciously played with it as she walked down the hall. It wasn't really fair in her mind that Meryl could hang out with her crush, whereas Milly was stuck in the hotel room merely thinking about hers. Although it made her blush merely to say the priest's name, especially since he _was_ a priest, and what was he doing giving her fancy bracelets anyway? But of course she hadn't been able to spend time with Livio either, and he had no such restrictions, and yet, because of her job she was forced to merely think about them in her spare time.

Meanwhile, Meryl had dressed up to the nines in her brightest whites, her best hose, and carrying one of the fancy Prada bags she'd bought back in May City to go on her date. Of course, Meryl said time and again that evening, "This is not a date Milly, this is merely an apology dinner between friends." Milly doubted Meryl even believed that and was secretly wishing that Nicholas or Livio had done something so they could have taken her out on an apology date… but she doubted they carried such big secrets as Mr. Knives had! Or perhaps they did and she had yet to discover them?

"Excuse me? Do you know of a good place in town for ice cream?" The tall insurance girl stopped in the midst of her thoughts to ask the woman tending the hotel desk. Milly suspected it was actually the owner's wife, but then again she looked young enough to also be his daughter. Just as she was about to ask which it was, the woman replied to her former question.

"We don't have an ice cream shop in town I'm afraid, but the local grocery is just a block down from here and they have some great flavors in their cooler." The woman smiled and Milly smiled brightly in return, thanked her, and was on her way yet again to fulfill her craving.

Little did she know that a few minutes after she had picked up her pint of ice cream made by a couple of guys by the names of "Ben & Jerry" that she'd find two sets of hands on her dragging her down to the floor. Milly started to yell, but another rough hand wrapped across her face, and in desperation, she looked around at the men who were holding her in an uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor of the grocery. The boards squeaked under her as she tried to move her ankles, already in the seconds they had forced her down, they were starting to go numb.

Frantically, Milly freed her head enough to turn and look at her captors. A dark suited man was pressed up against her right, and the other wore a white t-shirt, but their faces were craned, peering around one of the displays. Confused, she let go of her precious ice cream and tapped Wolfwood on the shoulder. He turned to look at her and whispered, "Don't say a word okay?" Milly nodded and he let up his hand from her face and slowly both of them let loose their grasps on her.

After a tense moment of hiding from who knows what, Livio slumped back onto the floor with a sigh. "We lost him."

"No matter how fast we are he always seems to be able to track us like a blood hound…" Nicholas laughed, sitting down now as well and wiping his brow as he looked at Milly. "How have you been Big Girl?"

Milly looked from one to another with a confused expression. "Who were you hiding from?"

"Master Chapel," Livio replied as he got to his feet and then offered her a hand. Milly took it willingly, but made sure to scoop up her pint of ice cream on the way to her feet. "With our Master out tonight, he wanted us to go through training practice with him, but we played hooky… and he can always tell where we've gone."

"I think we're safe for now, he gets tired a lot more easily than he used to," Nicholas added, his dark eyes sparkling. "We actually came to see you, since Miss Meryl is gone as well; I figured you might be in the need of some company."

Glancing down at her ice cream, Milly figured it would probably be enough to share, and as long as they didn't make too much of a mess in the hotel room she would enjoy the company. Truthfully, her heart was pounding in her chest at the mere mention of spending any time in secret with these two, even though she really couldn't decide which one she liked better, nor had either of them approached her in such a way as to say they were interested in her as more than a friend. But still, a girl always thought about those things no matter how tomboyish she might seem! After going through all of the arguments in her head that spoke for Meryl and possibly her mother too, about bringing boys back to her room un-chaperoned, Milly smiled, "Feel up to sharing some ice cream?"

* * *

To Date

**[Stardate: 11-02-0110-17:10]**

This really wasn't at all like her. Meryl had never been nervous about going out for a casual dinner with a _friend_ before, and even though she kept telling herself the same thing, at the same time her heart was pounding. Maybe it was fear of Knives? Yes, she told herself that, even though at the same moment the sound she was hearing in her chest beat out a rhythm telling her she _liked_ him rather than _feared_ him. Darn it all, why in the world was her body going against her? Her brain was rational enough to tell her that any office romances were doomed to fail, especially when it came to someone who wasn't even _human_ most likely, although he had yet to explain just exactly _what_ he was! Add on top of that the fact that since she stopped spending any time with him, the moment she did, Meryl had the urge to run up and kiss him silly.

She clutched her Prada bag tighter and clenched her teeth. This was _not_ the way of a professional businesswoman! Instead her body was turning into some crazed Amazon that wanted to pounce on any hot man flesh that was put in front of her! What was going on? Was this what some of those older women talked about when they said their 'clocks were ticking'? No, Meryl had no urge to procreate the species, and yet just remembering the way Knives kissed her… oh gosh no she didn't even want to dwell on the fact that his brother had been just as hot and both of them seemed very much fond of her! Not to mention how fascinated she was with the two of them, no matter how scary they might be or the fact that Vash nearly killed her the last time they met.

Meryl decided as she walked that this was the clincher. This evening she would put all of her emotions for the twins behind her and get on with the job. Very soon they would be arriving in Jeneora Rock and she could hand off the job to someone without any emotional attachments.

At the same time, her stomach tightened when she thought about never seeing either one of them again. Then she started to feel sick and it was worse than butterflies, it was this confusion that caused it. Darn her feminine urges and these stupid crushes! Meryl really wasn't sure how Milly could do it. Tell Milly to be professional and the girl would snap to it and be right as rain the next minute. Meryl doubted the tall girl was having the same sorts of feelings she was having! No way, Milly was not the type to think about such things as wondering how a guy would taste if she kissed him after eating, say, a bowl of pudding.

Suddenly, she found herself outside of the restaurant Knives had asked her to meet him. Meryl could see him standing inside near the host stand waiting for her. Again the butterflies! He was so incredibly handsome this evening though! Meryl patted her cheek, as she looked him over from outside. He must have been freshly shaved and had a brand new haircut. He wore tight black jeans that showed off his ample muscular structure and a silver studded belt around his slim waist. A dark shirt covered his chest and arms, it was freshly pressed and looked as new as his haircut. He was the picture of manliness from where she was standing, and as she watched, he turned his brilliant aqua blue eyes toward her and he smiled.

Meryl could have floated. Why was he so handsome? This was the same feeling she had the moment he swept her off of her feet and to safety a few months ago. How could she fall for someone so incredibly dangerous but in such a gorgeous package? Gosh…no thinking about his package! Meryl flushed red and went into the room, swallowing down a huge lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

"You look stunning," Millions said, carefully putting his hand on Meryl's elbow and leading her to the table.

"You…you look great too…" Meryl stammered, as he pulled out the chair for her at their table and sat down. He leaned down to push her in and she could smell mint on his breath.

Knives smiled, "I'm glad you came," he went around the table to the other side and sat. "I hope you don't mind, I took the time to place an order ahead of time. Unless that was too presumptuous?"

Meryl shook her head, "No, no, not at all." She set her purse down on her lap and she looked around at the small restaurant. It wasn't really a high-class establishment, merely a small hole in the wall. It was comfortable though, and she could see by the décor they served Italian. "Really, I'm not sure why you didn't just come to the hotel room yourself and apologize, this really seems like too much for something that simple."

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his chin on his fists, "You think so? From your reaction to my story I was surprised you followed us for as long as you did." Then he leaned back, "But that is most likely because you know where I go, so will my brother, and that's who you're really here for, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Meryl said sheepishly. It was bad enough _she_ was thinking about both men, but throw into it the fact he had to mention his brother made it worse. "I mean… yes, we need to find Vash, because that is our job, but we could have gone on ahead without you. I just thought this might be safer and since you weren't making us leave or anything…"

"You should leave." Knives admitted, "But if you did, I fear that Vash might do something to you." He stopped speaking for a short time while the waiter placed water and breadsticks in front of them. Meryl grabbed her water instantly, she felt so thirsty all of a sudden. Knives went for a breadstick and took a bite as he watched her. "I've really become quite fond of your company…and I've been missing it lately. That is why I really asked you here tonight."

Meryl nearly spit her water back into her glass. She coughed and set it down a bit roughly, splashing her hand and cast her eyes at the gunman.

He was looking at her with a serious expression on his face. Knives hated to tell lies, and he felt it wasn't the right time to beat around the bush. Of course, there was the simple fact that even if somehow Vash were to leave them alone, he knew it would cause him too much pain to even consider a relationship…however, he couldn't deny the fact there was something _there_ between them. He could hear his own heart pounding louder, and as he said these words his mouth became dry. He had gravely missed the little insurance girl during her long avoidance of him. "I take it those weren't the words you were wanting to hear."

"No…I mean yes…I mean…" Meryl sputtered, wiping her hands off with a napkin she was holding maybe a little too tightly. "I can't. I mean, I won't. I just… we aren't allowed to like anyone and I've missed being with you and…no…" She shook her head and took a long deep breath before looking up at him again. "Mr. Knives, it's not that I don't enjoy your company, because I do. But I also know about the terrible things you did and it seems you told them to get rid of me. And _now_ you're saying that you'd rather have me around? That doesn't make a whole lot of sense, now does it?"

Knives looked at her for a long few seconds and then laughed, putting his hand to his face, "No, I suppose it doesn't." His fingers moved to cover his mouth and a guilty, slightly childish expression came over his face. "Truthfully…I didn't even really want to do this, but Doc said if I didn't put it into words with you then I wouldn't be ready for the fight against Vash because I'd be too busy thinking of other things…"

Meryl opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. Oh. So it really wasn't _his_ idea after all to tell her? Knives was merely following orders, was that it? She slumped a bit in her seat, "Oh. I guess I can understand that. Things were pretty close during the tournament, but they wouldn't have been if I hadn't been there?"

He nodded brightly. "Yes, exactly. You do understand." He heaved a sigh of relief and took another bite of his bread stick. "I'm glad I got this out in the open. So you will stay with us until we reach Jeneora Rock, and keep me company, won't you? Until I go up against Vash, then you will have to be safely stored out of harm's way…" He paused, Meryl's frown had formed and she was staring at him like a bug. "What is it?"

"You really _don't_ get it do you? I'm going with you, I'm finding Vash, and I'm doing my job."

Knives frowned. "You'll get killed."

"I'm quite aware of that."

"Aren't you the least bit afraid of Vash? Even after everything that has happened?"

Meryl crossed her hands over her chest. "Are you?"

"Yes."

"Well, so am I. But I still have a job to do. You still have your job to do too, correct? That's not stopping you, is it?"

"Well, no."

"So there you go. I'm going with you, just like I'm sitting here eating this dinner with you. We might not have the same intentions for being here, but we're here anyway, correct?" Meryl felt like she wanted to cry. For a small time she had truly thought that Knives had wanted her to be there because _he_ wanted to spend time with her. And yet suddenly it seemed as though he only wanted her there in order to tell her, once again, to leave. Oh, but first keep me company because I like you? What kind of male logic was _that_? Come on! He really was a child, no matter how aloof he might have seemed at first! Meryl shook her head, men were all the same. They were all masculine and macho until a woman came into their lives and then suddenly they were like little boys wanting candy or cookies! Of course once they got what they wanted, that was it!

"Here you go, Sir, Madame," the waiter set down their plates. Pasta of some sort with a light orange colored sauce Meryl figured was probably some mixture of tomato and cheese sauces. She didn't bother to wait to see if Knives had anything more to say, she merely started digging into her dinner.

By gosh, she might be turned away, but she wouldn't be turned away hungry!

* * *

Triple Scoop

**[Stardate: 11-02-0110-18:00]**

Ice cream melted and dripped down the cone to his fingers. But he would prevail. He sat staring at Milly and Wolfwood, waiting for one of them to budge. They too had ice cream melting down their waffle cones, daring the other person to give up first. It was a test of sheer will and determination. Willpower was the champion here, who would last the…

Milly suddenly bit the end off her cone and sat back licking her fingers. "Sorry…I couldn't stand it anymore!" She laughed as she shoved the last bit of the cone in her mouth and watched the two men as they continued the last round of the contest. Milly used to do this with her older brothers and sisters at least once every summer. The trick to waffle cones was to eat the ice cream before it melted the bottom of the cone and it dripped down the hands. But once it had, the contest began, to see who could continue to eat their ice cream without giving in and licking the bottom. Of course, Milly rarely won the contest. It was too hard to stand the gooey stuff dribbling down her hands to her elbows. However, the game was fun, and she wondered whether Nick or Livio would manage to hold off the longest.

Livio was still watching Nicholas, both of them slowly licking their ice cream. They'd both eaten so little ice cream in their lives that it was hard to see the ice cream go to waste as he sat there with the cream melting down his arm and pooling at the crook of his elbow. The priest had taken off his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves at the very beginning, and he too was starting to get a sticky trickle down his tanned skin.

"You lived in an orphanage, don't tell me you're going to waste it all by letting it melt!" Wolfwood chided Livio. He licked the cone and smirked at his friend. "Think about the orphans…"

"Same goes for you," Livio replied, swallowing a bite of the waffle, savoring the wonderful flavor. "We grew up together if you haven't forgotten! I can't wait to tell them back at home what a child you are, playing silly games."

"Now, now," Milly said lightly, "This is a fair contest, I don't want any name calling or anything to start up!" She stood and pushed back her chair, "I'm going to go wash my hands." The insurance girl walked off, both boys watching her backside as she disappeared into the bathroom.

Wolfwood sighed, "She sure is special, isn't she?" Livio nodded. He looked down at his ice cream; only a few more bites left, but they had fallen into taking turns to see who could now last the longest. Who would take the last bite? Wolfwood watched his expression change and he smirked, "What do you say we just eat it, count of three? Then we'll be tied."

Livio glanced up, his eyes narrowed, "What proof do I have you aren't just going to let me eat it while you don't?"

With a chuckle, Nick ran his free hand through his hair, "You're pretty sharp for someone so dull."

"I have my moments," came the reply.

"Alright then, how about this? If I don't, I forfeit the chance to kiss Milly goodnight tonight."

"Alriii…. WHAT?" Livio looked up stunned at Nicholas, his mouth gaped open. "What did you just say?"

"Just what you thought I did," the priest replied. "I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I'm thinking about asking her out."

Livio's ice cream dipped dangerously, "But you can't! You're…"

"I'm retiring… or whatever it is that priests do when they decide they don't want to 'priest' anymore. Of course, that is, unless you're interested in going after her yourself."

"But I…never…I couldn't… she's…we…but no!" Livio frowned, "On the count of three."

Wolfwood smiled softly. "One." He turned his spoon toward his face. "Two." Neared his lips and watched Livio mirror him. "Three!"

Both men shoved their last bits in their mouths just as Milly came out. She stopped; saw them licking their fingers and arms before laughing. "You two do everything the same, don't you? I guess we won't have a winner after all!" She sat back down at her seat and both boys were looking fiercely at one another. Although, Milly had no idea it was because they were both at war over who would get to kiss her goodnight.

Livio and Wolfwood stared each other down, looked at her, and then returned to the new contest of wills… Meanwhile Milly just laughed and handed them napkins and started cleaning up the pools of melted ice cream on the table in the little kitchenette. She was blissfully unaware of what they were doing behind her, fiercely curious about what was going on with Mr. Knives and Meryl on their date.

* * *

Double Dating

**[Stardate: 11-02-0110-20:35]**

Meryl didn't talk to Millions much after the initial conversation at the beginning of their meal. However, she was having a horrible time keeping quiet, especially after a musician with a violin came out and started to serenade them. Meryl wondered whether that had been Knives' idea or the waiter's. Whomever the cause, the romantic music, the delightful food and the comfortable atmosphere lifted her spirits a tad. Slowly, she dropped her fork and looked up at Knives. He was busy eating his meal, but at her movement, his aqua eyes came up to meet hers.

For a moment, neither of them talked. Knives was patiently waiting to see if Meryl would change her mind and agree to allow him to find somewhere safe for her to stay. Meryl, over the course of the meal, had decided on an alternate route, and she sat back in her chair. "I've decided," she said slowly.

Knives inclined his head, nodding slowly for her to continue. Meryl set her hands in her lap, "We're going to stay here while you go face Vash."

"Wha…? You are?" Shocked, it took him a moment to process the information. "So you won't follow me into Jeneora?"

"We'll stay here, as long as you think we're safe from your brother."

He pondered this for a moment. "Yes, I believe there are enough people around for your well-being." Knives was relieved, and yet at the same time, there was an odd sensation that he saw a flicker in Meryl's eye as she took a sip of her water. "What changed your mind?"

Meryl leaned over the table slightly, waving a finger for Millions to do the same. She bit her lip, "Bernadelli is planning on giving our jobs to someone else upon arrival at Jeneora Rock. Truthfully, I'm worried that there is something going on at the headquarters. Misinformation… Deception… I believe that if Milly and I were to go into the city with you, you might be in grave danger. But please, no one must know about this! Milly and I have been investigating on our own for awhile now, and I think there is a deeper plot going on."

The gunman took in Meryl's expression and nodded. "I understand. I will keep an eye out for more 'insurance agents'," he said.

"Good," Meryl replied. She stood, "Well then, shall we go? I'm worried about leaving Milly alone in that hotel room for too long. The last time I did she had reorganized my paperwork thinking she was 'helping' and it took me three hours to get it back the way I wanted it."

Knives laughed at the sudden change of topics, and once he had paid the waiter, they headed back to Meryl's hotel room. They walked side by side. Knives relaxed that finally he had solved the problem of keeping the girls safe, but he would most likely ask a few of his men to stay behind in order to keep an eye on the girls. And also dreading what was coming next, Jeneora was only a few days' drive away now. Vash would be waiting for him.

Meryl, on the other hand, was thinking about how long of a head start she would have to give him before she and Milly would follow. It was true, what she had said about Bernadelli, because she was worried if they showed up together, Knives might be in danger. But she was _still_ going to Jeneora Rock, and she was _still_ going to find Vash the Stampede herself. Milly might miss traveling with the men folk, but it was the best way to make everyone happy.

Upon getting to the hotel, Knives offered to walk her to her room. Meryl nodded. She was somewhat crestfallen about the fact that he didn't seem to like her in the same way she thought. Company-wise perhaps, but not in a romantic sense. She'd read about that sort of thing in her romance novels. He had kissed her, yes, but it was probably… Meryl shook her head, no, it was probably just a momentary thing, and now her mind was clear. Yes, she saw it all very clearly now, her job was to find Vash the Stampede and bring him under the watchful eye of the Risk Prevention Team. Perhaps Knives might later stand in her way, but it didn't matter, she did have a job to do!

Just outside of the apartment, Meryl paused to dig out her key. She was just about to put it in the door when from the other side there was a scream. Millions grabbed Meryl out of the way, thrusting her down the hall, and brought his long leg up to kick the door in. It flew open, splintering, and Millions jumped in, pulling his long silver gun from hiding, although Meryl had no idea where, she hadn't seen it all evening. "Hold it right there! I know how to use…this…" Knives trailed off.

Meryl adjusted her traveling cape, her heart pounding a million iles and hour, and she slowly poked her head into the broken door. That had definitely been Milly's scream…she knew it…but the scene which played out before her was anything but what she had expected.

Rather, Milly lay on the floor with Nicholas and Livio crouched around her. Wolfwood's hands were still on Milly's sides, Livio had her bare feet. Milly was in tears on the floor, her hands to her face. Meryl stormed in, "WHAT IN THE FIVE SANDS ARE YOU DOING TO MILLY?!"

"It's not what it…" Livio started, he backed off instantly as Meryl's derringers came out of hiding.

Knives jumped in, "Hold it there!" He reached for her cape, dragging her back. "Don't you dare shoot my men."

"Milly! Are you okay?"

Nicholas and Livio both got to their feet and Milly's hands came down from her face. She was grinning from ear to ear, and she choked, then laughed. "Oh my gosh Meryl! They got me! They really did, I wasn't expecting it but they knew… somehow they just _knew!_" She crawled weakly to her feet and started to laugh again. "Oh my sides hurt!"

"What did you do to her?!" Meryl demanded, waving her derringers at Livio, and then Wolfwood, still not quite understanding what was going on.

The priest laughed, "She's really quite ticklish."

"Head to toe," Livio replied sheepishly.

Millions laughed. He let Meryl go and put his hand to his mouth, trying not to bust out as he watched the young insurance agent climb to her feet. "Oh Meryl," Milly said when she could speak again, "Oh gosh we had so much fun while you were gone. We were eating ice cream and then decided to play a game of truth or dare… Yes, I know, it's sort of something a teenager would do, but we didn't have any board games and the hotel manager said that she had loaned out her last deck of cards. Livio had seen some children in an orphanage playing this game once and before I knew it they dared me where I was ticklish and… and…" Milly clutched her sides, "Oh I was laughing so hard, and my sides still hurt!"

Heart pounding, Meryl nearly exploded, but then she coughed and started to laugh. Milly was surprised she wasn't going to be in for a speech since she had invited the two bodyguards back to the room. Instead, Meryl was laughing, she had been so afraid something horrible was happening in the room, only to find it was something…so childish…so innocent, that only Milly could come up with. She needed to sit down, she plopped down on the bed in relief. Milly walked over and bent down, "Are you okay Meryl?"

Meryl nodded, "Yes Milly, I'm fine. More than fine." She nodded to Wolfwood and Livio, "Thank you two for keeping an eye on Milly." Then she turned to Knives, "And thank you for dinner. It was a very pleasant evening. I hope you all have a good trip when you start off tomorrow."

Milly tilted her head to the side, "We're going with them, remember, Meryl?"

Her superior shook her head, "Nope. We're staying right here until they get back, isn't that right Mr. Stampede?"

Knives smiled and nodded. Although he couldn't promise he would return. He waved at his bodyguards, who were shocked to silence. They were…leaving the girls behind? "We'd better return to camp to prepare to leave in the morning," the gunman said, and waved his men out of the room.

Livio followed immediately, but Wolfwood lagged behind. "But I thought you…" He closed his mouth abruptly and followed his master out into the hallway. Meryl went and closed the door behind them. Although, down the hall she could hear Nicholas complaining, "But we can't leave them behind, what about Vash? Won't he do something to them… No, we can't!"

Meryl turned to the stunned Milly. It looked like her tall friend was about to break into real tears of sadness this time. "Meeeeryyyyllll," Milly burbled, "We can't…I thought we had a job to do…and I was having so much fun… Pu…puleezee, don't say we're really…really staying."

Quickly, Meryl went to the window, she remained quiet while Milly babbled about how much she was going to miss Mr. Knives and Mr. Wolfwood and Mr. Livio. But Meryl was watching, and the moment she saw the three men down on the street and walking out toward their camp, she turned on Milly and set her hands on her friend's shoulders. "Don't worry, Milly. We're not staying behind."

"Bu…butt…you jus' said…" Milly babbled.

"I know what I said, but that's because that's what Knives _wanted_ me to say. Truth is we're going to let them get a head start and we're going to follow behind them." Meryl shook her friend slightly, "Don't worry Milly, I'm not giving up that easily. But I'm worried about the news Bernadelli sent and I've been thinking we're going to report that we're not going to follow. Let them find Vash on their own, ha! They won't! Besides, I think something fishy is going on and I want to get to the bottom of that just as much as finding Vash and curbing his destructive tendencies."

Milly wiped her eyes and blinked down at her friend. "Really, Meryl? You think we can do all of that?"

"Of course! Don't you have faith in me?"

"Well, yes I do! But why couldn't we have just stayed with…"

"Because, quite frankly, they're in danger from Bernadelli. If we're seen with them then whoever is pulling the strings might think about shooting first and asking questions later."

The big insurance girl scrambled for the bed and sat down, snuffling into her sleeve. "Are they really that dangerous? Maybe we should have warned them…"

Meryl waved a hand at Milly, "I've already taken care of that. Now, however, we're going to wait a half a day here and then get on the road. We're going to get to Jeneora Rock without Bernadelli knowing and we're going to find Vash the Stampede ourselves."

Milly nodded. She took a deep breath, "Okay Meryl." She toyed with the bracelet on her wrist and then stood, "I think I'll get ready for bed now."

"That's probably a good thing, we'll need to be up early to get supplies to travel on our own from now on." Meryl tapped her finger to her forehead. "Always got to keep on our toes, Milly."

"Yes, I guess so, Meryl." Milly looked a bit disappointed as she slipped into the bathroom. The truth was, she had just worked up the courage for the next round of the game to ask Mr. Wolfwood if he liked her…and then all of this happened so suddenly. Now she didn't even know if she would ever be able to talk to him again! Meryl seemed all happy, so she supposed it was a good thing. Had something happened during the dinner? No, probably not, Milly thought. Because if Mr. Knives told Meryl that he liked her, most likely they wouldn't be having this sudden split. Milly turned on the showerhead and waited for the water to warm up. In that case, most likely he had instead crushed Meryl, so her friend would have to take an alternate course.

Milly stepped into the shower. Slowly, a smile crept over her face. Maybe, just maybe then, Meryl had realized she liked Vash the Stampede instead? Maybe this was her way of going to see him without Mr. Knives knowing? Milly secretly rooted for them, even if Mr. Vash had nearly killed them the last time. She shook her head, nah; she doubted he would try to kill Meryl again. It would be okay or her last name wasn't Thompson!


	26. CH 25 Jeneora Rock

_Welcome back everyone! We've got another exciting chapter for you! The last months have been busy ones, I got married! Hopefully things might get on a roll again, but I wanted to thank everyone ahead of time for sticking with us through the long waits between chapters! Thanks to new and old reviewers – Aine of Knockaine, Erin Sasaki, Qualia Des, and Demon Kid – it's great to know we've got some new readers! I hope you enjoy the next chapter! ~MillyT & Dwellin_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

* * *

**Chapter 25**

**Jeneora Rock**

**[Stardate: 11-03-0110-12:00]**

Meryl was convinced the city of Grandal did not want them to leave. The next afternoon, long after Knives and the others had gone, she and Milly went down to the stables to retrieve their tomas. Mr. Cotswold saw them coming and handed them a padded envelope. "Mr. Millions told me to give this to you since you weren't coming along with them." He crossed his hands over his chest and smiled, "I'm glad you decided to sell your toma, they sold at a high price last night at the auction."

"Ah, thanks yes..." Meryl stuttered out, her attention caught between the envelope and the information he just gave them, before blinking and replying, "WHAT?"

Mr. Cotswold unfolded his arms, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Mr. Millions came to me yesterday saying you no longer needed them, that you were going to head back on the Sandsteamer next month, and you needed the money. I got an excellent price for them since they came with all their gear, should be enough to last you a good few months."

"But, Meryl, did you..." Milly started, looking over her partner's shoulder as she opened up the envelope to see it was stuffed full of double dollars. Indeed, enough to live quite comfortably for a few months.

Swallowing, she nodded to Mr. Cotswold, "Yes, well, thank you for doing such an excellent job. I was wondering, are there any busses headed out of town sooner, say, to Jeneora Rock? I thought since it's only a few days a way we might go see it before the next Sandsteamer comes through." She gritted her teeth, angry at Knives and how he had somehow tricked her after she had tried to trick him!

The toma breeder puckered up his lips in thought, "Well, I don't know of anyone going out that way for a few days. I'll be needing to go there for feed in a day or two if you don't mind waiting that long."

Meryl nodded reluctantly, "That will be fine, thank you." She grabbed the arm of a hesitating Milly and shoved the envelope into an empty pocket of her traveling cape. Milly looked at her, obviously confused, and when they were out of earshot of the older man, she stopped walking. "I _can't_ believe he'd _do_ that to us! Sell our tomas right out from under our noses! And then add money to it even, I know he didn't get all that much from selling them...it's like he was trying to buy us off to make us stay away even though I told him we were staying away!"

While Meryl fumed, Milly looked down the road. "They didn't even say goodbye." She bit her lip and then nudged her friend. "So, what are we going to do, Meryl?"

"We'll hitchhike. There's bound to be more people coming through here before Mr. Cotswold makes his trip, right?"

Milly nodded slowly, "I guess so, Meryl."

However, after a couple days of trying to leave Grandal, Mr. Cotswold eventually drove them to Jeneora Rock himself. Of course, it was nearly three days after the others would have arrived, and Meryl was sure the city wouldn't be there when they finally made it.

However, instead of finding another Lost July, the small city of Jeneora Rock was as peaceful as any other. City folks went about their business; people were shopping and working, pushing children in strollers, walking dogs, and all of the things of a normal city.

It was highly suspicious to Meryl, because she was sure that Mr. Knives and Mr. Vash were supposed to meet here, in this town, so why hadn't sparks flown? Why was the town still standing? Why weren't people cowering in fear?

She was still puzzling over the questions in her mind as Harold unpacked their luggage on the curb in front of the small Sand Dollar Inn. He tipped his hat to them as he got back into his car, "I hope you can find your way from here, Ladies," he said with a soft smile. "Good luck to you! Come back to Grandal any time!"

"Oh, of course!" Milly chirped happily, waving him off as he disappeared down the street. She was still smiling as she turned to Meryl, seeing her friend with a perplexed expression. "What's wrong Meryl?"

Meryl shook her head, "If they came _here_ don't you think there'd be some kind of…trouble?" She waved her hand at the quiet city. She scanned the long rows of shingled houses with white picket fences, of brick bank buildings, and above it all was the focal point, a huge mountain that arose seemingly out of nowhere.

The rock named Jeneora was thrown here when one of the SEEDS ships crashed nearby. The power plant was still in use a few miles outside of the city, apparently, but most of the town was built here, after a foolhardy reverend built a church on the top. Everyone built around the church, and thus the small town was born.

Milly stood contemplating as well, but Meryl waved at her, "Don't hurt yourself now…" She turned to the hotel, "Guess we'd better get checked in and then find out where Bernadelli is located."

"But Meryl… what about…those…" The big girl trailed off, picking up her bags. "Didn't you say that we should avoid them so they don't send us home?"

The smaller insurance agent nodded. "Yes, Milly. But we can't avoid a place we haven't staked out first. There are two possibilities really," she added, hefting her bags up as well. "That they came here and stopped Vash and Knives, thus averting disaster, and if that's the case, I guess we probably _should_ go home." Milly gulped, but Meryl continued on. "Or two, they haven't gotten here yet."

"Oh, you think?" Milly asked. Meryl ignored her comment and they continued into the hotel to get settled in. The woman at the front desk looked relieved to see them, perhaps business had been slow. Of course, it wasn't pilgrimage season, so most likely they had very few visitors. They were checked in, unpacked, and ready to explore the town within the hour.

Meryl glanced up and down the street. Nothing seemed amiss. She shook her head and instead focused on the paper the lady gave her with instructions on how to get to Bernadelli. "Well Milly, here goes I guess. Let's get this over with so we can find out what happened to the others."

Milly nodded eagerly and followed after her little friend. The town itself was laid out simply, all streets radiated from the rock, but for a few cross streets that made arches around the mountain. Meryl had a strange feeling that all streets lead to the church, as long as you pointed yourself toward the huge monolith.

"It's pretty strange that they'd build something way up there, don't you think?" Milly commented after they'd been walking awhile. "I mean, sure, they're trying to be closer to God, but it looks like a mighty long hike to get up there." She had her neck craned to look at the steeple perched at the very top, shielding her eyes from the sun falling behind it.

"That's probably the reason that it's been abandoned," Meryl commented, looking down at her note and then pointing. "There, there's the building." They cautiously came up to the brownstone where the Bernadelli office was supposed to be. It was empty. "Well now, that's odd."

"Yeah, you'd think they would have hired a cleaning lady or something…look at all the dust!" Milly chirped, peering in above Meryl's shoulder.

"No, no," Meryl corrected, "It's not dusty because they're sloppy, it's dusty because no one's been here!" She went over to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. Then she went around the side of the building, waving Milly around to help her up to see inside a taller window. "Just like I thought, no one is here."

"So does that mean no one's going to take our place, and we can just go back to following Mr. Knives and Mr. Wolfwood…?" Milly smiled to herself, and automatically toyed with her bracelet again.

Meryl tried to ignore her look of bliss and put her hands on her hips. "It means… Well, I don't know for sure what it means! Either they never got here because they were stopped, or maybe it's because we were on the wrong trail." Meryl thought about that for a moment. Could Knives have lied to them? Saying they were on their way to Jeneora but in fact were going to some other city? What if Bernadelli figured that out and headed them off? Throwing Meryl and Milly off the scent by sending them here? She breathed out in a frustrated gust and stormed past Milly to the street again.

"What is it, Meryl?"

"Why is it there hasn't been anyone at all in the office? This should have been a thriving area with all of the claims for gang activity and theft." She shook her head, "But before we investigate Bernadelli, I think we need to do a little research to find out what happened to Knives," her friend answered. Meryl's eyes turned and focused on the church on the mountain. "We were traveling with priests, right?"

"Yes, Meryl, which is mighty frustrating, what with their vow of chastity…but then again I suppose it was good since many of them happened to be really old and ugly, and the looks we kept getting…I'm really glad that Mr. Conrad wound up getting rid of a lot of them along the way, because those guys…"

"You're way off track, Milly." Meryl cut her off. "Where do priests go?"

"Church?" Milly asked, still thinking about creepy old Chapel and trying to rub the goose bumps back down on her arms.

"Exactly." Pointing, Meryl smiled. "And what's at the top of the mountain, but a church? So we're going to go there first."

Milly smiled, understanding what Meryl was saying, until suddenly her lips turned down in a frown as realization kicked in. She sighed, "I was really hoping you wouldn't say we had to climb all those stairs…" Meryl eyed her, and Milly waved her off, her whole body visibly drooping. "It's okay, Meryl, an insurance agent has to do what the job calls for her to do… like you always say."

"That's the spirit!" Meryl replied, smiling. "Let's go to church!" And with that, she started walking. Milly trailed behind a bit, mumbling about hating stairs, but made no other fuss as they went.

* * *

**Winter Winds Changing**

**[Stardate: 11-09-0110-14:00]**

The winter winds were already starting to pick up in Jeneora. Seasons on the planet ranged, depending on where one was, but in this town, winter was when the winds blew, and summer was when they didn't, and when people only went out when the sun was behind the rock, otherwise it was too hot to do anything. Early for this time of the year, the winds were already turning the windmills above the city, and the engineers were starting to plan on minimizing usage of the plants in favor of the natural power source.

However, on this day, an unusual person was paying a visit to the building. Wearing a long dark coat, he called himself an engineer. He had blond hair that fell messily around his face and ears, as if he had forgotten to style it. His traveling boots clicked against the cold cement and metal gratings as he walked. For the most part, his eyes were covered by sunglasses, but from time to time they would slip, and he would eye one man or another as he walked.

Overall, the plants here were treated kindly. Better than in other cities where they were used for all daily living, and many of those plants were used up until they were dark husks. The plants here looked as healthy as they had upon the SEEDS ship. This visibly amused Vash as he walked the catwalks between them.

For the last week, after clearing his head from desert sand, he decided to settle into the town. As much as he loathed being around humans, the filthy little bugs they were, he knew they were important to his survival. The last bits of change from Elendira were gone with the first hotel room, and he had to find cash some way. So he devised a plan to become an engineer, and thus he gained a place to stay, food, and pay enough for as much alcohol as he chose. The engineers were immediately impressed by the skills in which he used the computer systems, adjusted the energy flow problems they were having, and went about answering any questions they'd had up until that point about the angels within the globes.

To Vash, it was nothing. This was all simply a game, leading up to the final boss. Now was just a waiting game, a way to survive until his brother and the girls joined him. Somewhere, he was sure, Bluesummers was still wandering, but he had yet to set his eyes upon the blue-haired menace again. Although, it was almost as if he could _feel_ him nearby, invisibly watching him. Legato had done such before, and Vash, even with his ever-growing anger, felt nervous at that fact.

"Hey, Dr. Vasquez!" A young man in a white lab coat called as Vash walked by. He'd chosen yet another false name, this one a bit more obviously fake. He had nearly given them his real name, just to see if these oblivious scientists would notice. They didn't even blink twice, merely saying that it was a familiar name, and perhaps it belonged to his father, a plant engineer who visited a few years back. Vash merely nodded at the time, realizing he could have easily told them he _was_ a plant too, and they would have waved at him saying 'how nice.'

"Yes, Jeffery?" Vash drawled, rolling the 'r' in his name. His hair, he no longer dyed, but he had fun changing his accent in this town as he waited.

The young scientist waved him over to a computer screen with bar charts and regulator function graphs. "What do you make of this? It looks like Number 2's output has been steadily dropping this last week." Vash eyed the chart. The young scientist had grown up around plants his entire life, just like his father before that, but really, none of them truly understood plants at all. They knew how to read the computers and make proper adjustments, but the plants were still black boxes to them.

Vash smiled, "Good catch, young man." He leaned over and tapped the keyboard, bringing up new charts and then changing a few things until the power output evened out. "I think she's just ready for her winter's hibernation," he said slowly. What he _didn't_ tell Jeffery was that he'd been using Number 2 at night in order to repair his mechanical arm. It took a lot of energy, and yielded very little result. The only good thing was that the audible humming in his arm had been reduced. He needed at least another week to make it able to function correctly, and another few weeks before he could again use his machine gun.

Jeffery nodded, "Perhaps you're right, Dr. Vasquez. Shouldn't have worried so much…" He trailed off, turning his attention to other charts and computer monitors as Vash walked on. He frowned; this game of playing with the humans as they treated his sisters like toys was aggravating. He wanted nothing more than to slaughter them all, but without his usual contacts, there was no telling how long it would be before his brother entered town.

Even Zazie had stopped reporting. Midvalley disappeared with Elendira, leaving Vash alone on his mission to bring back his brother's memories and return him to the _right_ side. And perhaps, find those insurance girls once again.

He frowned, there were no agents sent to replace the girls. He was surprised at that fact, until he did a bit of research. Apparently Bernadelli closed his office here in town, thanks to a new insurance company taking all of his business. Augustus Planetwide Insurance had a large office on the far side of town, which was a curious development, he'd heard very little of this company, and yet they seemed to be doing very well the past few months as he traveled. Perhaps at a later time he'd have to investigate, but for now he had more pressing matters.

Vash smiled grimly as he looked up at his plant sisters. They were small like _her,_ and oh how he missed toying with those insurance agents! He wondered when he would see her lovely face again. They were bound to follow his brother, whether or not Knives actually _allowed_ them to come, she'd come, he knew it beyond a doubt. None were as lovely and intoxicating as that black haired spitfire. None would be as aggravatingly addicting to play with. She was smart. Perhaps they were here in this town already. "Yes, excellent idea," Vash said to himself, not even attracting the attention of the scientists whom talked to themselves all of the time anyway. "I think I'll go see if I can't find myself a little entertainment." And with that, he took off out of the plant building, and headed into town.

* * *

**Windmill Point**

**[Stardate: 11-09-0110-14:30]**

Two miles outside of town was another large rock, thrown from the SEEDS crash site. Most people didn't even pay attention to this dusty little rock, although at one time it had been the two-mile marker for the trade route to Augusta City. Windmill point still housed about five old broken windmills, and a small outpost. Long abandoned after the sandsteamers became the most popular form of travel between the cities, originally it was a stopping post for weary travelers, a promise that the city was nearby.

Knives and the Eye of Michael camped here, north of the city for the last few days. The men grumbled that they were not allowed in the city immediately, claiming they would be late for the services held at night in the church. Knives paid them no mind; he was trying to come up with a strategy. Even though he knew the more time they wasted, the more time Vash and Legato had to create their own strategies against him, he just couldn't quite motivate himself to make the move.

Wolfwood and Livio were no help to him either. They had moped around since they left the insurance girls behind in Grandal. At present, Wolfwood sat slouched in a canvas folding chair, drawing something in the sand with a stick. Livio stood to his left, idly playing with his shorter hair, looking out into the distance.

"Look," Wolfwood said, pointing at the ground where he had sketched something. Livio turned his wary eyes down to the sand. "Okay, first thing that comes to mind when you see this."

Livio craned down slightly, examining it, then smiled, "Pudding cup."

Nicholas grinned, "Yup, what flavor?"

"Sand."

The priest looked up at his friend, "Sand isn't a flavor."

"It is if you're eating pudding during a sand-storm." Livio grinned. "Milly told me."

Nicholas laughed, and Livio joined in for a moment until they both faded into silence. Then they both sighed and Wolfwood scratched out the drawing. "I didn't think I'd ever miss traveling with women like I do now."

His tall friend merely grunted agreement and glanced at Knives. His master was sitting at a picnic table next to the southern wall of the outpost. The small building was still intact, lights flickered inside as the old windmills turned during the winter winds. A few priests were inside having a service of some sort. Knives would hear them chant something and cringe. Livio felt sorry for his master, somehow. Trapped by this group, worshipping memories he no longer had.

Livio heard the stories. Wolfwood had pried Conrad into telling him the history, and old man Chapel spoke of Knives' horrors with an eager lust for the old days. Both of the young men cringed, listening to Chapel speak. All of them, Knives included, were prisoners of this old man. Nicholas spoke many times of killing him. Livio doubted his friend could do it. Chapel was scarily strong for an old man. Even Knives didn't want to cross him, and that was saying something!

Knives turned over the map he was studying and picked up the pencil sitting next to it. He glanced up for a moment, locking eyes with Livio. Livio shifted his yellow eyes away, had his master seen him staring? He hoped not. The master was not to be annoyed, and wouldn't that annoy him? For a moment, he felt perhaps it was safe to turn to look again, but then he heard that deep resonant sound, "Livio, come here a moment."

Cringing as if he were to be punished, Livio stepped into motion and went to stand in front of his master. "Yes, Sir?"

"I'm sending the priests into town today. Actually, I want to get rid of them…" He eyed the outpost warily. "We won't be traveling with any of them from now on."

Livio blinked, realizing something, he turned and looked at Wolfwood, who had turned his attention out to the desert. There was one priest he didn't want to get rid of. Nicholas knew his job so well that the moment Livio left his lookout Nicholas took it up immediately. "What about…"

"Don't worry about Wolfwood," Knives said, waving his hand. "You two are my most trusted guards, I wouldn't send either of you away. However, he will have to break his ties from the church. I'm sick of their idol worship of me." He shivered noticeably, his shoulders tensing. "They don't treat me like a human… just an object. Hearing them in there now… I wanted to blow up the entire building with them in it…" Knives looked disgusted with the thought and stood, folding his maps, and gathering other supplies.

Nicholas turned at the sudden movement of his master. Knives picked up his things and walked with Livio back over to where the two were standing. He saw the drawing Wolfwood was doing; it looked vaguely like the blond girl they had left behind. He sighed. "Once I face my brother, if I don't come back, you two are free to go wherever you want."

Livio and Wolfwood gaped at Knives. "What?!" They both said at once, then Livio corrected himself, "What do you mean, Master?"

Knives shifted the items in his hands. "It means that I will no longer be your master, and you can go back to that girl of yours." He nodded at the drawing, and Wolfwood hastily stood and scratched it out of the sand with his foot.

"You can't mean that. Even if you stop Vash, you're still at risk from the bounty hunters…" Wolfwood thought about seeing the insurance girl again, but at the same time, he couldn't bare to leave Spikey alone, he doubted the man could fend for himself. Just look at what a wreck he was when they found him! "And what about Livio's condition? Without Dr. Conrad…"

"William will be free to leave with you," Knives replied, looking out of sorts now. "Take him with you, keep him safe." Then he turned. "When the service ends, notify the Eye of Michael they are to finish their pilgrimage into town and that I will join them in the morrow. You two will stay with me and Conrad until we find Vash."

Livio nodded, bowing slightly at the shoulders, "Yes, Master…" He turned to see Wolfwood, looking irritated. "Nick…" he said through gritted teeth at his partner. Nicholas sighed and nodded, "Yes, of course, whatever ya say."

Knives half-smiled and turned away from them, going back to his tent. This was it. No more waiting. He had to face Legato and Vash now. He couldn't keep running. This time, he would end it.

* * *

**The Climb**

**[Stardate: 11-09-0110-17:55]**

Milly paused to take a breath. Then, for good measure, another one. Hands on her knees, she heaved, sweat rolling down her red cheeks, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and forehead. For a short time, she stood just like this before lifting her eyes to the huge stone staircase in front of her. Meryl was quite a ways ahead of her at the moment, and hadn't even noticed that Milly stopped. She panted again for good measure, and started up the steps, one at a time again, until she reached a small landing with a bench. And there, Milly stopped to catch her breath.

After a moment, Meryl stopped and turned, looking down at her friend. "Milly Thompson! You get off that bench right now and come up here!"

Milly waved, "I'll be fine, Meryl, just go on without me…"

"I didn't say that!" Meryl stormed, she pointed at the ground only a few dozen steps from where Milly had stopped. "We aren't even as high as the third story of the Bernadelli office yet!"

"I know Meryl," Milly panted, "But don't you think it's handy there's an elevator there?" She stood up a bit wobbly and looked down. That wasn't so bad. She could handle going back down that direction, but up… there were so many more hundreds of steps going _up_! Milly started moving again, but still slowly, taking one step at a time. "It's really a pity that there isn't an elevator here. Seriously, who would build a church so far up?"

Meryl shook her head, not waiting for her friend to join her. It had taken her a few hours just to get Milly on the staircase, little lone, headed upwards. Seriously, what was her problem? The big girl surely wasn't out of shape! She could carry that huge stun-gun of hers across the desert; she helped the boys tear down the tents two or three times, and even bested a few of the priests at arm wrestling. It wasn't as though she were afraid of heights either. Milly had no problem hanging outside on scaffolding to clean windows, or hang over the railing of a sandsteamer to watch the sandworms ride the wake. So, just what _was_ it about stairs?

Shaking her head, she glanced back at Milly. Thankfully, her friend was still trudging along slowly, although panting and red in the face still. Meryl knew this little obstacle would be the least of their worries if they found that monster Vash the Stampede at the top! Or any number of the other nasties that Mr. Knives talked about from time to time. Meryl had a feeling that there were even more than what he let on. Just one look at Chapel told her the whole Eye of Michael group was dangerous. And this church, from what she could tell, was a sacred place to them!

"Senpai?" Milly called from below. Meryl paused and turned to look at her. She was on her knees on a step, her hands planted on a few steps above that. "I…I don't think…I can…make it…"

Meryl's hands went immediately to her hips. "You get up here right now! What if Mr. Wolfwood and Mr. Livio were up here? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like that?" Meryl grinned evilly, she just realized she could use the two as bait and what better time?

"They'd probably carry me…" Milly whined, but stood up, looking a lot less tired instantly, and started trudging up faster. "Do you think they might be up here, Senpai?"

Her friend shrugged in response, "Who knows? Maybe. Means we should get going, don't you think?"

Milly nodded, catching up to Meryl in only a matter of moments, the idea of the stairs apparently over-ridden by the idea of the two men she liked. Meryl, even though a bit offended that two men could drive her friend to do something she couldn't even when absent, couldn't help but smile. Of course, her own hopes were she'd find the men that drove her absolutely crazy – and not exactly in a good way – helped her move and keep up with Milly along the rest of the climb to the top of Jeneora Rock.

When they reached the final stair, Meryl paused, putting a hand out to stop Milly from barging right into the church. "Now Milly, we can't go in there yet, not without proper reason or investigation." She lowered her hand as Milly nodded, and then smoothed her skirt and cloak. Then, she checked the positioning of her derringers, carefully out of sight in case anyone was watching. Finally, she turned to see Milly adjust the strap of her stun-gun under her coat and pulling the hair back from her face.

"What's first?" Milly said, ready and willing, looking around at the surroundings. "Sure looks peaceful. I haven't seen anyone suspicious, in fact, it doesn't look like there's much of anything around here but that pretty church."

"Let's check around the surroundings, peek in a window or two, then we'll go in." Meryl instantly set to work with her plan of attack. However, Milly was right, she really didn't see anyone around, and for the most part the place was spotless. No activity or suspicious movement in the shadows either. Meryl crossed her arms, and then waved one finger at the door. "Well, Milly, I guess there's only one thing left to do, and that's go on inside."

The big girl nodded, "Alright! It's kinda cold and breezy out here anyway." She went up to the huge white wood doors and pushed. It took only a second for them to both push open at once, allowing the light to spill into the interior. Milly squinted her eyes, and peered around. "Well, I don't think there's anyone in here either…"

Both girls trudged inside, leaving the door open for good measure. Meryl started a routine search of the inside, around pillars and pews, around the pulpit, inside the tidings baskets, and up into the choir loft. She frowned, waving at Milly. "For once, you're right, this place is totally empty. We've checked every nook and cranny…"

"Except that," Milly said, pointing to the far side of the room. There, shadowed from the light of the door, was a huge dark wood confessional. Meryl was surprised she hadn't seen it before this moment. It was so dark and imposing, carved in heavy wood with fancy latticework doors. There were two signs hanging on the outside, a bit unusual, but the whole church seemed to be a mixture of different religions and ideas.

Meryl walked up carefully to the two doors. The signs upon them read, "Vacant" and the other "Occupied." She tapped her finger to her nose and examined them. There was really no way to tell if someone was inside the confessional from the outside besides these signs. The latticework was heavy and had dark cloth on the inside to block sound. Meryl tapped briefly on the side that read, "Occupied".

Milly reached out, then swallowed and closed her mouth. She wasn't really sure if Meryl should find out who was behind that door. But in the seconds that passed, no one answered. Meryl tried the door, but found it locked. "Don't suppose they could lock it from the outside, you think?" Milly asked nervously.

"From the latch on this door, I didn't think you could lock them at all." Then she moved and tried the other door, finding it swung open easily. Meryl looked inside at the dark velvet covering the walls, all but a slightly more open lattice on the wall that joined the confessional. "Hello?"

"Welcome, my child," a voice came from the other side. "Do you have a confession to make?" The voice was deep, and had a slight accent, but from where, she was uncertain. Meryl shook her head and turned to look at Milly, giving her a thumb's up.

Meryl sat down and closed the door of the confessional. "Actually, Father, my partner and I have come looking for some men."

"The church is not a dating service," the man said chidingly, but then he chuckled. "I'm sorry, I have been cooped up here for quite some time. What men are you looking for?"

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Meryl leaned back in the soft chair, "They are brothers, and were supposed to have met here a few days ago. But I'm starting to think we may have missed them. You haven't seen anyone suspicious around this last week, have you?"

"Suspicious?" The priest asked. "No, I don't believe I have. Brothers, you say? What do they look like?"

"Annoying, blond, spikey-haired and tall. One's sorta gangly and the other one is a bit more built. But they're twins, so it's kind of hard to tell them apart at times." Meryl crossed her hands over her chest, trying to look through the lattice at the man she was talking to, but he was well hidden. All she could see was that he wore black. "Really, they're both excruciatingly annoying, but my partner and I have a job to do, see, we're from the Bernadelli Insurance Society, and at first we thought it was only one guy we were worried about…but then come to find out they've both been going by the same name."

There was a rustling as the man repositioned himself. "The same name, you say?"

"Yes, Vash the Stampede. Although, and this is strictly confidential," Meryl said, leaning toward the wall a bit, and lowering her voice. "But between you and me, the real Vash the Stampede isn't the man everyone thinks he is. That guy is actually a really kind hearted man who will do anything for the woman he…" Meryl trailed off, blushing. "Anyway, the real Vash the Stampede usually goes under a whole bunch of other aliases, and is a complete and utter monster."

"A monster… you say?" The voice said, the accent slipping slightly.

Meryl didn't even pay attention, "Oh yes. He nearly killed my friend and me if it weren't for his brother! And he's the most horrible womanizer! Followed us everywhere, and harassed us!" Meryl was burning now; she was practically shaking in her seat, thinking about what the real Vash did to her. "I swear if I get my hands on him again, I'll…"

"You'll what?"

"I'll…well, I'll…" Meryl faltered suddenly, "Oh, I'm sorry Father, I suppose that's a sin to think about killing someone…" She bent her head, "Do I have to say some sort of Hail Marys or something for unclean thoughts?"

"Nah…" the priest said, all vestiges of the accent were gone. "Because I'm just fine and I think unclean thoughts all the time." There was a chuckle, and Meryl stood abruptly.

"Wait a second…" She bent down, trying to see him through the lattice, "You aren't a real priest, are you?"

Milly was snoozing on one of the pews. She didn't even notice as the door opposite of Meryl's opened. Meryl could hear it creak as the man on the other side chuckled. "Oh, but my dear child, you came here to see me, didn't you?"

Suddenly, Meryl's door was flung open and the tall priest blocked her path to freedom. Meryl took in the long black coat, but as her eyes rose, she could see that sarcastic grin, that annoying spiked blond hair grown long and falling around those glittering aqua eyes. They had an otherworldly gleam in them. "Vash!" She gasped.

Vash grinned, "I see you know my name now… My brother told you, I take it?" Vash reached in and grabbed Meryl by the wrist, hauling her up on her feet and held her tightly as he stepped into the booth and closed the door, locking them inside.

"HELP!! MILLY!" Meryl screamed, kicking and struggling against his grasp.

Milly heard a muffled sound, and moved to lie across the pew, mumbling about how much the stairs had worn her out.

"She can't hear you," Vash grinned, grabbing her other wrist and pinning Meryl to the back wall of the confessional. He placed one of his knees on the chair behind her, wedging her legs where they were. "It's so handy that a church would have a place like this, don't you think? Quiet and secluded like this. Of course, I know it wasn't meant for _this_ sort of activity, but, I'm sure it's not the first time." He grinned, leaning down to kiss Meryl possessively on the lips.

Meryl squirmed and could feel his body pressing into hers as he tried deepening the kiss. She bit his tongue and Vash flinched, withdrawing. "That's not very nice…"

"Neither are you! What did you do with Knives? Did you kill him already?" Meryl tried raising her legs, but the back of her knees were pressed tightly against the chair.

"Knives? I haven't done anything with him. I thought you came here to see me? Or am I just a pale comparison to my brother, is that it?" Vash scoffed, moving Meryl's wrists both to one hand, his left, which was still horribly strong, even after Meryl recalled it having been the one wounded. "Knives is just a pale shadow of what he was before. Do you think that **I** am the bad guy here? Knives slaughtered hundreds…thousands…before you ever met him. I merely picked up where he left off." Vash slid his right hand over Meryl's lips. "You like him though, don't you? If you like kissing a murderer so much, why not choose me instead? My hands have been bloodied by far less than he."

Meryl gnashed her teeth at his fingers, but Vash slapped her. She swallowed, tears threatening her eyes. "YOU are the monster! Whatever he did in the past, that's not who he is now!"

"Perhaps…but that is what I want to change," Vash replied, his lips pursed together as he saw her cheek flare red from his handprint. "And then you won't have any reason to deny me this beautiful lovely little body of yours…because we will be the same. Perhaps we'll even share you." Vash kissed her again, this time on the cheek, then down her neck, sending shivers along Meryl's spine. His body was warm against hers. Her own body reacted in an unwanted manner, she pressed back against his body, feeling his warmth and his tongue as it slid behind her ear.

"NO!" Meryl hissed, coming to her senses after a moment of pleasure. She tried pulling both of her hands out of his fist at once, then tried twisting her body away from him. "Knives isn't like that! He'll come here and he'll stop you!"

"Oh, I'm looking forward to him coming here." Aqua eyes glowed in the dark room. Meryl stopped moving, looking at them. Where they really glowing? Vash grinned. "I _want_ him to come here, I'm _planning_ on it. That is why you and your sleepy friend out there will be my hostages until then." He kissed her again on the lips, but this time, Meryl couldn't move. She couldn't take her eyes off of those glowing orbs. Did he have some sort of power over her? No… She very much doubted that, she could still think, but why was her body reacting like this?

Vash moved his hand toward her side, sliding it up under her shirt, slowly feeling skin. Cool fingers on her flushed body, Meryl shivered and he deepened the kiss. Meryl allowed him to, feeling his roaming hand find her breast, and she let out a moan of surprise and closed her eyes. Vash chuckled, "Yes… I knew you would find me…"

"MERYL? Are you IN THERE?" Milly's voice came through the hard wood door. Then suddenly it was on the other side of the confessional, through the lattice. "Meryl? You've been in there an awfully long time, did you fall asleep? The priest is gone you know…"

With a moan, Vash lowered his hand and sighed. "Just as it was getting good…" He turned and opened the door, stepped out, and then slammed both doors shut, locking the girls in. On the other side he could hear the muffled question of surprise from Milly's side, and a boneless thud as Meryl fell to the chair. He grinned, wiping his lips with his fingers and kissing them. "Oh, you will be mine after all!"

Vash turned, and reached up, there were two locking mechanisms hidden in the heavy scrollwork, meant to keep the parishioners from getting in on off hours. Once the girls were locked in, he turned. "So, they beat my brother here, did they? He didn't do such a good job protecting them after all. I wonder where he is?" Vash tapped the doors, "Don't worry, you'll be safe in there." Then, smiling, he walked away, catching only a vague hint of the girls talking within.

"Meryl? Meryl, is that you in there?" Meryl asked, trying to open the door, but to no avail. She sunk down on her knees, trying to see Meryl within. Her friend was sitting slumped in the chair.

"Yes, I'm here."

"The door's locked, Sempai," Milly replied, sounding confused. "Do you think the wind blew it shut?"

Meryl shook her head, "No, Milly, it was a trap." She rubbed her wrists and tried straightening her shirt where Vash had un-tucked it. Embarrassed and angry, Meryl shivered. "We're going to be in here awhile, I'm afraid."

"A priest trapped us?" Milly scratched her head and got up to sit in the comfy chair. "I guess I don't get it."

Her friend normally would have argued, but she couldn't seem to get the words to form for quite a long time afterward.


	27. CH 26 All Roads Lead

_After months of waiting...we post another chapter! Dwellin and I had this chapter written for...well, lets just say it's been waiting for quite a long time as we got the next chapter written Hopefully it won't be as long for the next chapter to be posted, but at least you know it's in the works, no worries, we're getting to the climax very soon! Thanks again to all of our reviewers, I don't have your names with me right now, but thanks to all of our readers for your continued support for all of these years (or months if you've just started reading) I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! MillyT_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

* * *

**Chapter 26**

**Trapped**

**[Stardate: 11-09-0110-23:14]**

Milly stood up, and then sat again, readjusting herself. The confessional really wasn't all that comfortable, and she wondered how long a priest could sit there listening to the long list of sins some people undoubtedly had. Of course, she really didn't think a priest went without food or going to the bathroom for this long. She didn't know about him but was about ready to burst a bladder muscle if this kept up. Only once had the spikey-haired Vash, the _real_ Vash, let them out to stretch, one at a time, and use the bathroom. Milly was good, she knew what he would do to them, so when it was her turn, she didn't try to escape.

Meryl, on the other hand, tried to climb out the window in the bathroom and nearly dropped to her death when she realized the bathroom window was directly over a cliff, and it was no wonder Mr. Vash allowed them to go in there by themselves. Since that time, however, he had not come back, nor had he spoken. There were no voices outside of the heavy oak doors either.

"Do you think, anyone will notice that we are missing?" Milly asked quietly to Meryl. Her partner had finally gotten over the shock of being trapped to tell her that it was Vash, not a priest, who had been within the other confessional, and trapped them here. Obviously, she found out for herself when she saw the handsome man open the door for their break hours ago. It was really a pity he was such a bad man. She half thought that Meryl and he would get along splendidly, especially since he obviously had a huge crush on her. Although, she doubted Meryl would be able to look past the whole evil thing; especially after locking them in a confessional!

"Who knows, the hotel staff will probably think we were just out late on the town…" Meryl grumped. She shook her head. "At least we do know that Mr. Knives is still alive…otherwise Vash wouldn't be using us as bait." She smiled on her side of the confessional, imagining her knight in shining armor coming to save her…then she remembered what he _was_ and that meant this man who kidnapped them was also a plant… Meryl sighed, really, why was it the first two men who liked her weren't even human? What did that say about her? Plus, they were bent on destroying one another and would soon probably end up destroying this town, because they had that power, she'd seen it before.

"I wonder if that means Mr. Priest and Livio are here?" Milly leaned against the latticework between them and smiled to herself, also thinking up a similar scenario as her partner's. Only in this one, she couldn't quite make up her mind which of the two men would open up the door and scoop her into his arms. At first she thought perhaps Livio, but then she remembered his crush on Jasmine, so then she thought about Nicholas doing it…she figured he'd be strong enough, but it would look kind of awkward and unromantic since they were both almost the same height. So, perhaps Livio would be the scooper-upper…

"If they could get us out of here, I don't care who shows up," Meryl said, cutting off Milly's imaginings. "I really wish you hadn't put down your stun-gun."

"Well….it was sort of bruising my side when I was laying against it…so I took it off… you can't blame me, can you?" Milly scratched her chin. At least it was still sitting there outside the door, if she were to get out again. "But it would have been handy if Mr. Vash forgot to take off your cape…" Meryl, of course, had initially thought of it, and sat with her derringers in hand, waiting for the door to open again once Milly returned from her trip to the bathroom. But Vash was too quick, the bullets seemed to zoom around him the moment he stepped in, and then quick as a whistle, he ripped off the cloak and flung it away. Hhe took the derringers from her hands and shoved her in the direction of the bathroom.

Meryl didn't even have time to retrieve it before getting shoved back into her prison on the return trip. Especially not after Vash found her trying to climb out to her death through the window. Oh, if she hadn't seen his eyes glow before, she had no doubt they could now. This time with hilarity at her stunned expression from the drop straight down the cliff moments before he pulled her back inside.

"So, here we are, two of the best insurance agents around, and we can't even get ourselves out of this situation?" Meryl stood up from her seat and then tried the walls again. Why was this thing so well built? Was it to contain the sins of the confessors so they didn't get out and infect the rest of the congregation? Why couldn't it have been made of plywood, or heavy curtains? How rich had this church been to be able to afford thick, hard wood confessionals? It wasn't fair!

Then she got up on her chair and started feeling around the ceiling, and around the latticework. She could see out only through the top, enough to see that night had fallen and it was dark out. The lattice wouldn't budge, and was so thick she doubted even with a tool, she could break out. "I wonder what happened to the other agents who were supposed to relieve us?"

Milly stood up again, rubbing her numb butt. "Meryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we're going to die this time around?"

Meryl blinked, "Milly…of course not…I mean, there's no way he'll kill us…"

"But if the other agents are dead, which is what you were assuming, right…? Then what's to say he won't kill us as well?"

Surprised by her friend's sudden loss of optimism, Meryl swallowed. "He won't, at least I don't think so, at least not until he…." Meryl remembered how eager the real Stampede was to have his way with her. So far, that hadn't happened, and she really doubted he was into necrophilia. "It'll be okay, Milly. He didn't kill us right? That means he's using us as bait, and as soon as Mr. Knives finds out, he'll be here in a jiffy and come to save us." She believed it as soon as she said it.

Milly smiled briefly and nodded. "I just wish he'd come back soon so we could go to the bathroom again…" She did a short potty-dance and then sat down on her chair. "I'm so hungry too…" She patted absently at her pockets checking to see if she accidently left a pudding cup in one, despite the fact they had been thoroughly checked several times already and the search resulted in turning up nothing but lint. If only lint were tasty.

* * *

**Missing Persons**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-7:00]**

At five in the morning, the priests left for Jeneora Rock. After Knives' request they leave without him, they chose to do a 'service' of sorts in order to respect their beloved 'god' and pay him the homage they felt he deserved before they completed their pilgrimage. Then, first thing in the morning, they packed their things to go to the church on the top of the hill.

That left, Knives, Dr. Conrad, Wolfwood and Livio, to pack up what little they felt they would need on their own travels. The priests would, of course, find their master missing when they came to retrieve him in a few days. Knives planned it this way. These worshippers wanted normal humans dead; they wanted the plants to rule like gods, and Knives to be the leader. Oftentimes Knives wondered if he himself had encouraged this belief in the years before July City.

He shivered to think that he was such an evil person as to have destroyed the humanity in these men. Had he pushed them over the edge to change themselves into monsters both body and soul? Was this the kind of man he once was? Was this the kind of creature he was before that fateful day? Would that also be the kind of man he was to become if Vash had his way?

These were the things Knives considered as he walked with Conrad down the street into town. There was no sign of his brother, no rumors going around the town of trouble even. For all he knew, Vash had not entered this city, or at least he was lying lower than usual. As for the blue-haired one, Knives sent Wolfwood out to investigate. He wanted to know where the attack would come before it did, if possible. Livio hid in the shadows, as well as his huge, almost seven-foot form would allow, and ever so often Knives would catch a glimpse of him disappearing into an alleyway. He had chosen his guards well; there was no doubt about that. And he would miss them if he survived this final encounter with his brother.

Conrad noticed Knives' sullen expression as they walked, "Do you feel something? Is he here?"

"No…I'm not sure," the tall blond replied, hefting the bag on his shoulder higher, returning circulation to his arm. His aqua eyes pierced their surroundings with an icy chill, causing one couple to cross over to the other side of the street with unease. "He should be here by now. We waited longer than necessary I think; perhaps I should have investigated this town further before his arrival."

The doctor nodded, then his eyes caught the church on the mountain, "I suspect he will be up there, waiting for you…" Knowing both boys from an early age, Conrad suspected that at times he knew more than they did about themselves. Although, even he did not truly know how the plants were originally created. "Do you suppose Vash killed Bluesummers?"

Knives blinked, curious, "What would make you think that?"

"I suspected when we entered this town, there would be a huge pile of bodies outside, blood everywhere…but perhaps it was just my own pessimism working." William said. The words sent a shiver down Knives' spine, as he too could imagine Bluesummers' army killing everyone right outside the town. In his mind, the pool of blood spread as far as the eye could see.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be any trouble," Knives responded, sending the vision out of his head with a wave of his hand. The town was bustling today, for such a small place. People walked to and from businesses and did things as they usually would. None of them had the 'feel' to them of being controlled by a puppeteer as Knives suspected Bluesummers was capable of had they been under his power. "In fact, under other circumstances I would think we were in the wrong city."

"It does feel that way, doesn't it?" Conrad said, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the nervous sweat from his brow. "Let's find a hotel room to settle down for the day while the boys look for our _friends_," he said slowly. "I'd like to get a shower."

The plant nodded, "Yes, of course." He pointed down the road, "There's a small place… The Sand Dollar Inn." Conrad followed his lead as they went into the unassuming building. The woman behind the counter was on the phone, although she wasn't speaking, and when they walked in, she pulled the phone slightly away from her ear.

"It's ringing…just a moment…" Then she waited for what they assumed to be another few rings, before hanging up. "I'm sorry, the guests that arrived yesterday haven't come down to pay and I haven't seen a sign of them since yesterday… but never mind, what can I do for you two gentlemen?"

Knives wondered about her statement for a moment, but then he mentally shrugged it off. "I need two rooms for the evening, double beds if possible. Two more of my associates will be joining us shortly."

"Is this business, or pleasure?" The woman asked, curious. Apparently she didn't have much business in the recent months and was dying for gossip or something interesting…anything, in fact. She leaned forward on her elbows as she pushed the logbook out for the handsome blond man to sign.

"Strictly business," Knives said with a small frown, pushing the book back to her after scrawling fake names in her book. She glanced down at the vaguely boring names, noticing how neat and perfect the man's handwriting was, before grabbing up a set of keys.

"Well then, here you go. The rooms are upstairs on your right." Then she paused, "If you happen to see two women up there come out of the room at the end of the hall, please call me. I've been trying to get a hold of them to pay for the extra night. They left their things, but I haven't been able to reach them."

Knives and Conrad had already turned by the time she said this last thing, and the plant stopped instantly. "Two women? What did they look like?"

The woman was looking at her nails, "One is a tall blond, the other a shorter brunette."

Conrad and Knives eyed each other. _Oh no. No, no, no._ How did they follow them here from Grandal so quickly? And now they were missing? Knives handed the keys and bags to Conrad. "I'll be back within the hour…" And he rushed out the door.

"Was it something I said?" The lady behind the desk asked of the doctor.

Conrad shrugged the bags Knives handed him onto his shoulder and gave her a million dollar 'no problem' smile. "Of course not, he just remembered there was an earlier meeting he should have been at right now." Then he waved his hand, "If an extremely tall fellow and a tanned priest come in, please tell them which room I'm staying in, those are our associates." Then, he walked up the stairs, internally praying that Knives wouldn't get himself killed looking for those women.

* * *

**Blue & Black**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-7:35]**

Wolfwood shouldered his cross. No one took notice of him as he walked down the street, apparently being used to priests carrying large crosses and strange objects. Nicholas blamed the Eye of Michael for making it a usual sight in this town. If they hadn't been here, he might have been able to ask around for the strange blue-haired man. But then again, Legato rarely walked around in public openly. Normally the monster used his powers to shield himself from normal people. It made looking for him like a needle in a very large haystack.

For the time being, he contented himself with walking down the street, smiling warmly as women and children walked by. He even took a confession or two as he went. A few donations for the orphanage were given when he mentioned why he was there. Most of the people were quite willing to give to the church, even though Wolfwood believed in an entirely different religion than the men who took over the top of the mountain. He suspected most of the townsfolk were the same.

In fact, he found a small parsonage being built in town under the supervision of a kindly old man with a beard and sparkling green eyes. The man looked up as Wolfwood walked by, a smile turning more to a scowl, until Nicholas himself stopped, wondering what it that had garnered this ill attitude.

"Is there a problem?" He asked gently, looking up at the construction of the new building. "Nice place you're going to have here, is it for the people who can't get up to the mountain?"

The man frowned, "No, it's for the people who don't believe in your heathenistic views…"

"Mine…? Oh no," Nicholas set down his cross and put up a hand, "I'm not part of the Eye of Michael…at least not anymore." He said. He noticed an immediate change in the old fellow's attitude. "In fact, I was kind of hoping that someone would have taken up the old religion here in town."

"Oh, why yes!" The fellow said, turning and holding out his hand, "Really? You mean that? Well, my son, I'm Joseph, I used to preach up there when I was a much younger man." Wolfwood shook his hand heartily and Joseph turned back to look at the new parsonage. "This will be my home, but I'm planning on teaching here until we can work up enough funds to build a larger church. I'm afraid it was foolhardy for my predecessor to build that church up there, especially when it fell to disuse…and misuse." He smiled at Nicholas, "So, when did you turn away from the Eye?"

"Quite some time ago… although officially only yesterday," he said the last bit under his breath and the older man didn't quite catch it. He smiled, ignoring the last statement, "May I ask you a question, Sir?"

Joseph nodded, "Of course, my boy, what is it you want to know?"

"Have you seen a tall blond man wearing black in town recently? Or a blueish haired man wearing white, either one?"

The man looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head, "I'm afraid I haven't. Are they friends of yours?"

Nicholas laughed, "Oh no! No, no." He shook his head, "I'm afraid they are quite the opposite. I've tracked them here to this town, they are evil souls, going around trying to…close the churches that are built upon the old, true, religion." He added the last bit, thinking that Joseph would help him if he knew these men were trouble. Indeed, the older gentleman crossed his arms in front of his chest with thought.

"And you've tracked them here to stop them?"

"Yes. It's important I find either one."

Joseph shook his head, "Well, the best I can do is keep an eye out for them for you."

"That would be quite kind of you," Nicholas replied. He picked up his cross once again. "I'll stop back in while I'm in town to check, if I can. Meanwhile, I'd best be on my way."

"Yes, of course. May God be with you," Joseph replied.

"May He be with you also," Wolfwood said with a smile. He waved goodbye as he continued down the street. Unfortunately, this little stop had not given him any new information. He sighed, not noticing the dark shadow that fell behind him until it set a hand upon his shoulder.

Wolfwood spun, pulling his cross from his shoulder and about to click the latch that unwrapped the bindings, before seeing his partner behind him. "Livio! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be watching over Spikey…"

"He's over there," Livio said sullenly, hitching a thumb over his shoulder. Knives was going from building to building, asking about them. "The girls are here somewhere in town."

"They're…what?!" Wolfwood gaped.

Livio nodded, "They checked into the hotel room last night and haven't been seen since." He bent down to whisper, "Do you think Milly's okay?"

The priest shook his head, "I don't know… But we might find them faster if we split up."

"Yeah, that's why I came over here to tell you," his tall friend said. "Our Master is heading up to the church next, so I figured if you went to check the plant facility…"

Nicholas nodded, swinging his cross back into place. "Okay, I'll head that way, be careful…" He eyed Knives as the man took off at a run from a shop, apparently following a lead. "Take care of him."

A half hour later, Nicholas found himself outside the plant facility. It was a nice hike a few miles outside of the city, but he was able to find it easily following the large power lines that ran along the ground to it. The place was hopping this time of day, and the scientists paid him only half a mind as he walked through the doors. Apparently, from their yells and murmurings, they were slowing the power consumption of the town and switching now to the windmills. Wolfwood found this strange, most humans chose to use the plants rather than save them for backup. It made him somewhat optimistic that in the future plants and humans might live side by side. Or at least, perhaps they could find a way to free the plants so they could roam free like Knives and Vash did.

"Where is Vasquez?" One of the scientists called from a nearby plant. "I could really use his help…" Wolfwood froze at the name, where they meaning the Doc? No… Conrad hadn't used that name since July City, so how…?

"Figures he wouldn't be here when we needed him!" Another man called back. "Said something about meeting up with a business partner today. He at least could have brought the guy back here…"

"What about that strange fellow who came in this morning? Didn't he say he knew a little about the plants?" A third said from under a bunch of wiring. "He was wearing a lab coat, wasn't he?"

Wolfwood glanced around, thankfully no one said a word to him, so he was able to blend into the background as men and women alike passed him by. His dark gray eyes scanned the huge room. The plants were pristine, perhaps because the Eye of Michael made it so. But each bulb was in perfect shape, there were some empty spaces where plants might have once been, but their remnants were cleared out long ago. Six stories tall, rows of plants in their regular seed-like states, glowing softly behind glass globes; the building was a true sight to behold. But then… Nicholas caught a glimpse of something moving in the rafters even above the tallest row of plants.

He backed away from the hustle and bustle of the engineers and found a staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Was that…? Could it be…? Turning the corner, he looked up again, closer still, but the figure was still foggy in the darkness of the upper region of the room. There almost seemed to be a glimmer in his eyes, but then he disappeared and Wolfwood turned to find another flight of stairs leading higher still.

Within moments, without even breathing heavily, Wolfwood stood face to face with the darkness of the catwalks above the room. Had he imagined seeing someone here? No, he'd seen a figure and there was only one way down without falling straight to the ground. That person _had_ to be here…was it him? Was it Vash? Or was it…

"You did a good job finding me, Priest." The blue-haired man said, forming from the darkness itself. His yellow eye glowed beneath long dark bangs. "Chapel warned me you were on your way here. Where is your Master, then?"

Nicholas frowned, pulling the cross from his shoulder, unwrapping it and aiming it at Legato in a single breath. "I'm here to find the Insurance girls… what have you done with them?"

Legato laughed, the bubbly evil sound overtook the room. Even the scientists and engineers below stopped to face squinting eyes up in their direction. All they saw was darkness. Legato made it so they would not be able to see or hear the conversation taking place. "Oh, I have done nothing with them. Vash the Stampede has a fetish for them, if you recall. From what Chapel has told me, he has them in that repulsive church." He said, the echoing laughter fading. "You are too late, my Master should be there soon… _saving_ them. At least, that is what he will believe until the Eye of Michael stops him."

"What are you planning, Bluesummers?"

The blue haired man stepped forward, "My dear Priest, or are you anymore? I hear you stopped believing in the ways my Master and I raised you in… No matter, traitors will all perish. But first, I promised the Stampede his chance. While he tries to stop my devoted followers, you and I can either come to an agreement, or you can die now." Legato smiled, the gleam in his yellow eye sent a shiver down Nick's back. "You will be welcome as my Gung-ho Gun once again, what is your choice?"

"I'm not going to be a part of this…" Wolfwood spit. "Ya can die for all I care," he said, his anger causing his accent to flare again. Suddenly, he opened fire on Bluesummers. But it was too slow; the blue-haired man grabbed Nicholas's face from behind, turning him around, squeezing his long, pointed fingers into his jaw until blood ran down his neck.

"Do _not_ interfere, _Priest_." Legato hissed. His silky smooth voice faded into hysteria, "Master Knives WILL be mine, once again. We shall destroy Vash the Stampede, and either you will stand with me, or against me. All those who stand against me…will die." He snapped his wrist backward, and Nicholas felt the bones in his jaw breaking.

With both legs, Wolfwood bent his knees, jamming his fist into Legato's leg, using it at leverage to push off. He wrenched free of Bluesummer's grasp, sending himself backward, but his aim was off and he fell hard to the ground. Legato laughed as Wolfwood pulled himself to his hands and knees, careful not to move his jaw, knowing that it was shattered. He couldn't speak, not yet, not until he had time to heal. Blood pooled in his mouth and Nicholas tried to spit blood but it merely slipped out the side of his mouth and the Master of the Gung-Ho Guns smirked.

"Goodbye… I am truly sorry I didn't have more time to play with you, but time is short." And Legato disappeared.

Wolfwood gasped, fumbling in his pocket for a small vial there. He looked at it, slightly repulsed. There were only three left. He wouldn't be able to get more now that he no longer traveled with the Eye. But this was not who he wanted to be…he wanted to be a normal person again. His mind flashed on Milly, even as he pulled himself to his feet and set the vial to his lips. He wouldn't be so careless again. Next time he would kill Bluesummers… Nicholas drank the potion within and felt the bones start to heal. His face smoked and reformed, and the vial dropped to the catwalk and smashed.

Feeling the bones become solid again and the pain recede, Nicholas reached up and ran a hand over his jaw and then swore under his breath, while gathering up his cross yet again. Was it too late? Would he be able to get to the church in time to stop Spikey from walking into the trap? Then, he took off at a run down the stairs and out into the hot sunshine.

* * *

**Worship Services**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-9:35]**

There were voices outside. Meryl knew for sure she heard voices. "HELP!" She pounded on the wooden doors of the confessional. Milly jolted awake, making a squeak of confusion; she had been sleeping most of the night until now. Once fully awake, she joined her friend, both of them pounding on the doors. "Help! We're trapped in here!"

The voices got closer and suddenly someone swung open the door on Meryl's side. Immediately seeing that it was not Vash the Stampede, but someone else, she said, "Oh thank goodness! We were trapped by a crazed maniac…" But suddenly, her relief turned into shock. The face that greeted her was an old, bearded man who sat in a wheelchair. He looked at her with distaste. "It's…you…" Meryl swallowed.

"So, we meet again," Chapel replied silkily. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, dragging her out into the sunshine. "And I assume your unintelligent friend is in the other side?" He waved at one of the other priests to open the door for Milly.

"Thank goodness…." Milly smiled, but found herself in the custody of one of the priests as well. "Oh, Father Jacobine, how are…oh oww, that's a bit tight…" She squirmed, her smile fading as she realized they were not free quite yet. Her blue eyes turned to Meryl with worry.

"Where's Vash? I mean…where's Knives? What have you done with him? Let me go!" Meryl twisted in the old priest's grasp, but his fingers were knotty and hard as old oak. His grasp was nearly as hard as that left arm of the real Vash.

Chapel leaned back, pulling Meryl with him as he moved his wheelchair away from the confessional toward the podium. He waved a hand to one of his other associates and a tall, skinny, and sickly looking man took Meryl from him. "Tie them up there on the stage. Gag them as well, they'll be a nuisance during the service if we don't." He turned, smirking, "Your brother will be here soon?"

Meryl and Milly blinked at each other, only a second later realizing that Chapel was not speaking to them, but someone behind them. They turned violet and blue eyes to the confessional where the grinning Vash the Stampede sat on the top. Meryl wondered how long he had been there, sitting. Had he watched them sleep through the lattice work? Meryl had a sore neck and needed to use the bathroom again, but her worry overpowered both of those problems.

As Vash jumped down, the long black duster swirled around him as he landed on the floor with a dull thud. From head to foot he wore all black, his blond hair had recently been cut, Meryl saw, it stuck straight up like Knives' usually did, only his spikes were longer. He had dark black sunglasses on that covered his eyes and he smirked at them. "Oh, he'll be here… any time now."

Before the other priests had time to move Meryl and Milly into position, Vash came up between them. He slid his sunglasses down his nose, "You both were so _precious_ sleeping. I would have loved to have played with you more while you slept, but alas, I had to get ready for the reunion with my brother." He slipped a gloved hand under Meryl's chin. "'_Oh Knives, I'm sorry…_' What _is_ it between you and my brother, anyway? Calling his name in your sleep!" He moved his hand away and slapped her face.

Meryl screeched and snapped at him, "You evil bastard! He'll get you, you don't have any power over him!"

Vash shrugged. "Maybe not. Maybe he _is_ a changed man. But, I doubt it. No one can change completely. That evil inside of him….you realize all of those towns that disappeared off the map before July City? He did it. You heard about November didn't you? Your precious Knives is a killer as am I. And he'll return to that. He'll come here and perhaps you will be his first new victims." He moved away, looking at Milly for a second.

"You…you _bad_ man!" Milly choked. "I can't believe I even thought you and Meryl should date!" She ignored the look of exasperation from Meryl as they both found themselves being hauled up behind the podium. The priests tied their hands and feet and threw the ropes up into the rafters. Within a few minutes, the insurance girls hung a foot off the ground by their arms, unable to escape.

Chapel looked at them with indifference and turned to Vash. He never quite liked Knives' brother, but he _was_ a plant, and with that, he deserved some reverence. "Master, I'm not quite sure of your tactics… should we not just capture Master Knives and force him into undergoing a test? Dr. Conrad could surely revert his brain activity back to the way it was before…"

Vash waved off the priest's question. "Obviously, if Conrad had wanted Knives back the way he was, he would have done it by now, don't you think?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Chapel, what do you hope to accomplish here? Serving us plants? We despise your kind. You only do evil to us, kill us, enslave us, wish us to do your bidding…"

"Never!" Chapel responded, offended. "The Eye of Michael wish only to serve you… You are our gods, our redeemers. Only by following you shall we truly become great! Better than the insects that crawl over this planet like a plague!" The old man sat higher in his wheelchair. "I might be in an old body, but my will is strong and my spirit is on fire! We wish more than anything to redeem our Master, to bring your brother back to you. Do you not wish for our help?"

The gunman turned from Chapel, looking up at the helpless girls. He licked his lips. It was truly a pity that he could not have had his way with the girl before using her for bait. But no matter, this wasn't time or place. Then, after shaking his head, he looked around at the multiple priests, all sitting, or standing, waiting on his every word and smiled to himself. What luck this was, stumbling upon the Eye of Michael! And they were surprisingly willing to help him out with this little task.

"I do require your services," Vash said at last. They all seemed to lean forward, eager to help. "My brother has help, I will need you to distract them. Knives is _mine_. I will face him alone." He turned to Chapel upon saying the last sentence and the old man nodded.

"So be it." He waved at his men. "Let us prepare for the final hour!" Instantly, the priests filed out in various directions, taking their places as if following an intricate plan.

When they were all gone, Vash turned again to the girls. "It is a pity that we never got to go on that date…" He said. Meryl mumbled something behind her gag and he laughed. "Oh, you wouldn't have gone out with me?" He threw his hands out, basking in the glory of the morning sun that came through the windows. "Maybe after this morning you will change your mind!" Vash mocked laughingly and then turned, strolling from the room.

Meryl and Milly moved their necks out from their raised arms, looking at each other. Meryl dropped her head, "Sobby," she said muffled through her gag.

"Ib all bibght." Milly returned, both sighing and turning to watch the church doors, waiting for either their salvation to walk through…or their deaths.

* * *

**Change of Tactics**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-10:25]**

Knives knew it was a trap even before Livio stepped out in front of him, barring his way from ascending the church stairs. There were eyes everywhere. He knew what he was up against and he was ready for it. This many guards meant that the Eye of Michael were not only here, but also that they were protecting someone, but not him. That left only one other answer, Vash was up there, and where Vash was, so were the insurance girls.

However, the tall, silver-haired man refused to allow him to go up to the church, the steady frown and firm posture meant he had made up his mind. However, being his master meant Knives could order him out of the way at any moment. It was, he had to admit, a reason for him to calm down and ready himself for the meeting to come.

"Get out of my way, Doublefang." He murmured, using the old Eye of Michael nickname. Livio shook his head. "You will move, or I shall force you to."

Livio swallowed, knowing full well his master had the power to do just as he promised. "Master, _please, _I know the Eye is up there, and although I know I can take them on myself, I fear your life may be in jeopardy. We should wait for this evening when they have retired to their beds." His hands moved to the holsters where his guns resided. "We should also wait for Nicholas to return."

He was right, Knives admitted to himself, but the girls were up there, and undoubtedly in trouble, and he couldn't just allow them to be tormented by Vash! No... "We go now to make sure they are all right. When Wolfwood arrives, he will find us handling the situation by ourselves..." He moved quickly, bypassing Livio with a single step and started to run up the steps, _"Don't worry, Meryl, I'll protect you._"

His run wasn't to be, Knives soon found. Livio leapt up to his level like a gazelle and once again blocked his way. "I really didn't want to do this, Master, but you leave me with no other choice." And in one bright flash, everything when dark for Knives. It felt like a Sandsteamer hit him and he was out cold instantly.

Livio sighed, hefting his Master into his arms as he fell. "I'm sorry...I do hope you'll forgive me, but if you get killed there will be no one to save Milly...and that other girl." He jumped lightly down to the lower stairway and looked out over the desert to where Wolfwood had disappeared. "Get back here soon..." He murmured, making a tactical retreat, for now.


	28. CH 27 Angel Arms

_Thanks to the holidays, Dwellin and I are proud to announce our next chapter in the continuing saga of Dark Vash... All of the suspense and intrigue come together at a head in this climatic chapter! Thanks again to all of our patient readers, with how busy Dwellin and I have been, we just got this chapter ready only a little while ago! Thanks to Aine andTebriel for posting reviews on our last chapter, I hope this one doesn't disappoint! Enjoy, and we'll see you after the dust settles! -MillyT_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

Chapter 27

**Evening Sets on Evil**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-18:00]**

The light of twilight slowly sank into darkness. One by one the stars winked on in the sky. He could see them, even from under the lighted awning of the café where he sat. As the sun set, the wind died to barely a whisper, but he knew a storm was coming this evening. He could feel the energy in the air of something brewing in the air.

Finishing the last savory bite of cheesecake on his plate, the man lifted the napkin from his lap daintily to his lips. Then, raising an exquisite finger to summon the waiter, he pulled a billfold from the front of his white coat and paid him for dinner. Task done, the man stood from his table and walked out into the rapidly cooling street.

Store fronts were lit in welcoming yellow in the early evening, making a distinct difference between them and the black alleys he walked past. There was life here, and plenty of it, people walking from door to door, perusing the shops that still remained open. No one saw him, unless he wished it to be so. The people went about their daily lives without taking notice of his odd white coat or his blue-tinged hair.

As he rounded the corner, he could see the hilltop church. It rose higher than every building in the city, higher than the mountains which surrounded it. He paused briefly, seeing lights inside the cathedral. That was where it would happen, this church, the holy ground blessed by so many before would be the entrance to hell.

He would make it so. The two brothers had warred long enough. It was time to bring his master's suffering to an end. He did not need to feel the remorse, the pity for these insects that crawled upon the ground around him. They were nothing to these two holy beings, and he decided it was up to him to make amends for the occurrence of years before. That horrendous accident was unacceptable, his master forgot him, forgot himself, and changed so drastically that even he, his most loyal servant, had thought to give up on him.

But not now, no, he was too close to seeing it come to an end. He wanted to reverse the damage that was done so they could get back on track. It was certainly a pity that the master's kin was impossible to bring around. He had hoped, at least for a short time, to change him. But even though he claimed not to like humans, his bonds with them were too great, he craved the females of their species. This would not do, he would have to put an end to it, even if he went against his master's commands and killed Vash himself.

Yes, if he had to. But he also had power over these two. He would find a way to make sure his master returned to him, and him alone, to carry out the plans they had set into motion all those years ago. Yes, and this time without the hindrance of a twin sibling.

Legato smiled to himself, continuing down the dark street. The pitch-black alleys called to him, and he turned down one, cutting across street after street on his way to the chapel on the hill. The lights were blazing, they were there already, and he could sense them. Not long now, not long at all and he would make his appearance, and bring it to an end.

**Waiting Period**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-18:10]**

It was dark out, the Fifth Moon had not yet risen, and the smaller brother moon was only just starting to peer above the horizon. The night was silent, deadly, the kind of night that you could hear a Sandsteamer from miles away, but on this night, nothing stirred. There were voices, but they fell flat, swallowed up by the darkness rather than echoing through the desert.

The girls could feel it in their bones that something was going to happen. They already knew what was coming, there was to be a meeting. And if the stories of November City were correct then it would quite possibly result in some unforeseen catastrophe. It had happened before, and two of their predecessors had paid the price with their lives. Now their own lives hung in the balance.

The man named Vash the Stampede was waiting for his brother to arrive. He did not pace, although the subtle way he moved his hands, the way his foot twitched just so, told them that he normally would have been pacing, had they not been nearby. His need to impress them with his power and strength held him in place, a cold expression plastered on his face. Meryl shivered, remembering the events from the night before. She could still remember the feeling of his lips pressed against hers, the warmth of his body urging her to reciprocate.

She shivered and her partner turned to look at her. "Is everything okay, Meryl?" She asked, curious, moving slightly in her bindings.

Meryl looked at her partner, wondering if she should really answer such a question, because really, nothing _was_ okay. She had been strung along by someone who was going to kill her, she started to fall for someone who was merely protecting her from the first one, and they were both currently tied up, awaiting their own possible deaths unless something happened soon...no, _nothing_ was okay. But she sighed instead, "I'm fine, Milly." She hazarded a glance over at Vash again. Strange, for someone so calm and collected usually, he sure looked worried. Maybe it was because of how many hours had elapsed between the morning hours when Vash thought Knives would show up and the current time.

"Have you changed your mind?" He asked, looking up, sneering and apparently trying to think about something else himself. "Perhaps you want to choose me instead of Knives? I shall still take you into my bed if you wish...then I'll store you somewhere safe, keep you for myself."

"Ugh, no!" Meryl grimaced, blushing, and tried to turn from his leering eyes. "I'd rather die."

"I can arrange that as well," Vash replied, patting his hip where his gun was holstered. "However, until my brother appears, I shall have to restrain myself. So, perhaps you have until then." Then he had a strange look and pulled the gun from hiding, leveling it toward Milly. "However, I have no qualms about killing _her,_ if that would satisfy you. She's cute, but after hearing her ridiculous stories about her family all afternoon I realize she's _definitely_ not my type. How would you feel about going to my bed if her life were threatened?"

Meryl blanched, but Milly's expression didn't waver from its calm exterior. "Mr. Vash, I know you are a _nice_ man inside somewhere, otherwise you wouldn't have listened so intently to my stories today. I really doubt you..."

A bullet grazed her cheek. They hadn't even seen him pull the trigger, but a small trickle of blood oozed down her cheek and a few strands of hair fluttered to the floor. She gulped but remained silent. "What were you saying again..?" Vash coaxed. "That I'm _nice_? Is that what you think? I'm _not_ nice. I'm only holding you for ransom because you're handy, not because I like you both. In fact, I should have captured, had my way with you and killed you a long time ago when you nearly ran me over coming from that theater." He licked his lips, "However, you are women...and women, to me, are handy tools when it comes to holding sway over others. They tend to be weak and the weak need protecting, as I'm sure my brother would tell you."

"You wanted to protect someone once," Milly murmured, then lifted her head and spoke louder. "Mr. Wolfwood told me so, before July City you _protected_ people. Why did you change?"

"I learned better. Humans are selfish and arrogant. They don't deserve to live, just as my brother used to tell me. I have scar after scar as proof of such evil your kind produces."

"That can't be true," Meryl replied, moving in her bindings, even after the stories she didn't want to believe Knives was once the evil man everyone claimed.

"It is, Sweetie," Vash responded, his sneer turning into a grin. "You don't want to believe your knight in shining armor killed...but he did. He took my arm too, didn't care. He didn't like the humans so he slaughtered them, and when I refused to allow him to kill more, he cut it off. Didn't hesitate once." To demonstrate, Vash lifted the sleeve on his coat. His mechanical arm was still acting up, the skin showed the mechanics working below, he had not bothered to cover it up after working on it earlier that evening. "Your _hero_ is a killer, plain and simple. He may have had a change of heart for a short time, but that will change."

"Never!" Meryl squeaked, although she felt that perhaps Vash was right. Deep down in her heart, when she had looked at those deep pools of aqua, Knives' eyes had told her what Vash was telling her now. He may not have remembered what he did, but he _did_ do them. "He couldn't do it again...he's changed, genuinely...I'm sure of it." She couldn't look at Vash, didn't want to face the truth. Looking at him reminded her too much of looking at Knives, looking at the past she couldn't imagine.

Vash waved a hand at them, "You're wrong. But don't worry, I will show you." He stood suddenly. "He's here."

**Plan of Attack**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-18:15]**

After Livio took Knives back to the Doc, he awaited Wolfwood's return. The former priest was in quite the state when he returned. Fuming, he was up in arms, what were they doing there still, why hadn't they confronted Vash yet? Why weren't the girls safe? Livio nodded to the slumped over Knives, motioning to the fact that he wasn't about to allow his Master to go up against Vash in such an emotional state. If Knives _had_ been in the right mind to fight his twin, after all, he wouldn't have allowed Livio to get the jump on him so easily.

Conrad agreed with the situation and waited for their master to awaken again. When he did, he was in a much calmer condition than before. "We need a plan," Wolfwood told his master as he opened his eyes. "Don't think for a minute you're going to go off on your own... Legato is out there and quite dangerous." Nicholas rubbed his neck and told them about what happened hours before.

Knives listened with an intensity only rivaled by his eagerness to set things right. He started pacing the floor, his mind going over the possibilities of what was to happen. "The priests will be with him now...they choose no sides, only masters, and Vash is a plant. They'll help or hinder us... The best thing to do will be to take them out swiftly." He looked at Conrad, "I'll need you here for when the girls return, they'll need a friendly face to get them to safety."

"And us, Master?" Livio asked, ready to be included this time. Hopefully Knives had learned his lesson.

"You will get to them, return them here...I will deal with Vash." The blond man spoke, not looking his underlings in the eye, a bit ashamed for allowing his emotions to win him over before. This time, he would go about this in a cool, collected manner. "Let us go. I think we've kept my brother waiting far too long. And..." he added after a moment, "If you see Legato, kill him."

Wolfwood and Livio glanced at one another. Knives had never given them permission to kill before... at least not since he had undergone the change at July City. This was it then, Nicholas thought to himself, Knives was no longer holding back. He nodded, "It will be our pleasure..." He hefted his cross punisher upon his shoulder and nodded to Livio, "Let's go."

When they had left, Knives crossed the room to where his long colt lay with his coat. Conrad was collecting his things as well and glanced at him. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll have to be... things with Vash must end here. I only hope that this will not be another July..." His words trailed off as he picked up his gun, examining it, checking the rounds, the hammer, everything was in working order. Knives holstered it, and threw on his coat, buttoning it against the upcoming weather. "You were a good father," he murmured, looking at Conrad. "I'm sorry I was not a better son."

Conrad was taken aback. He coughed and gathered himself. "Knives, always remain true to the self you are now... don't allow others to dictate what you _should_ think, because inside..." He shrugged it off, "I guess this is no time for fatherly advice. Go, save that girl you've fallen for...and if you can bring back Vash... I just hope it's not too late." He shouldered his pack and left the door without another word.

When he was alone again, Knives closed his eyes. He _felt_ his sleeping sisters. He _felt_ his brother at the top of the cliff. He had kept him waiting far too long, but would this be to his advantage? Could he make it that way? A frazzled gunman was usually one off his guard. He would have to count on Vash's impatience.

At the top of the mountain, the priests lined the walkway. Knives watched them turn their gazes from him. Apparently they had no orders to fight him. Vash wanted him and only him then. Knives swallowed, his hand resting on his gun. Each priest bowed his head and took a step back as he passed. They lead the way up to the front doors which stood open to the night air.

Were his men in place? He neither heard nor saw any sign of them. But were there fewer priests than he had sent up here previously? Maybe they were watching the back. Hopefully his bodyguards would be ready when the time came to get the girls out of the church.

Taking one slow step after another, he could see Vash's head come into view at the pulpit. His brother leaned over it as if about to give a sermon. He almost looked calm, but for a slight twitch in his left arm. _So he hasn't fixed it yet_, Knives mused. Thankfully he had _one_ advantage over his brother this evening.

As he came to the top step, his breath caught. Meryl and Milly were tied on the stage next to Vash. Milly had a browning streak of blood on her cheek. The girl was silent, the light in her eyes was faint, unlike the majority of the time he had seen her. Meryl, on the other hand, was quietly smoldering, just waiting for someone to fan the flame. He could see the fierceness in her violet eyes as they looked at Vash. "...He's here."

Those violet eyes and the blue ones from her partner, turned to see Knives. Instantly the smoldering fire was replaced by relief. "You came!" Milly squealed.

Meryl kept her composure, but the emotion was the same. She turned to look at Vash, "You're in trouble now, you spikey-haired bastard! Get him for us Knives!"

Vash took one look at Knives and then threw a booted foot out at Meryl and knocked her over. "Shut your trap!" He stepped forward, "You're too late Knives, I have them both now. You're too weak to do anything about it...obviously you've hesitated this long, they must not mean much to you."

"You're wrong!" Milly squeaked, "He was probably planning something..." She cringed when Vash turned bright electric aqua eyes toward her. She knew he had no qualms with hurting her, but luckily he was too far away now, walking now up the aisle toward his twin.

Knives stopped walking. "Let them go, Vash. They have nothing to do with us. Let's end this right here and now."

"You're wrong," Vash sneered. He ran a gloved hand through his spiked hair. "They have everything to do with this. They and all of those little ants below us. They're the reason we're here, aren't they? The reason we came all this way was to get rid of them. You didn't manage to destroy the humans as you had hoped thanks to Rem. But it's not hard for us to do it now ourselves. Unfortunately many of our siblings will perish...but no matter... most of us will survive. And maybe...just maybe we'll allow these two to stay with us. The tall one is annoying, but I think once we cut out her tongue she'll make a nice toy."

Meryl and Milly looked at one another and swallowed deeply. Would he really do that? They didn't want to find out.

Neither did Knives. "Let them go...whoever survives this can track them down later." He pulled his gun from its holster. "You and me, just us... we'll discuss the matter at another time."

"What? I thought we'd forgo the fighting and join sides. I suppose I could even let you take your pick... you want the feisty dark haired one? I'll let you have her." Vash grinned, pulling his own gun. "Six bullets. No reloading. Do you still think your way is right? If you don't kill me now, I'll take them both for myself. If you do manage to kill me...which you won't...I know you won't...ever since we got a taste of each other's minds you haven't had the guts to do so. It doesn't matter, I want them to watch anyway. It should be a fascinating show." Suddenly, feathers sprouted from Vash's face, running down the sides of his neck and right arm.

The girls gasped and even Knives took a step backward. He sometimes forgot their powers. The glorious glowing blue and white feathers that spread over Vash's body made a mockery of the name 'angel' that some of the plants received. His own feathers...the ones he could feel springing in reaction up along his own cheek and down his arm, were silver, sharp as knives. The power Vash gave off was overwhelming, it stirred his inner self, the plant that he was and tried to hide. He was afraid to see the girls' reactions. Sure, they had seen things that no other humans on this planet that lived had ever seen...but he never wanted them to see him as the monster he really was.

"What do you think, girls?" Vash chided, looking over his shoulder. The right side of his face was completely transformed now, his eye glowed brightly, it no longer looked human, nor did the features of his face as his mouth curled up into a strangely wide and inhuman smile. The girls were backing away the best they could as they were still tied together. He sneered. "That's what I thought... we're monsters. What made you think you could ever stop us from destroying or ruling this planet whichever way we chose?"

Knives lifted his gun, "Leave them alone, Vash." He fired a bullet, it grazed his brother's cheek. Red blood oozed out in the same manner as had Milly's shortly before. "You and I are human as well, see the blood that flows from our veins? It's the same color."

Vash lifted his left hand and wiped the blood from it, then angrily fired off a round, catching Knives off guard and hitting his shoulder. Knives fell backward, the feathers on his arm reacting, lashing out razor sharp blades. Vash ducked as he ran for him. "I'll kill you!"

Knives rolled away from his brother, the knives on his arm catching the next bullet that flew at him. He was up on his feet in the flickering of an eye and dashing out the door of the church. Out of the corner of his eye, through the pain in his shoulder, he saw Wolfwood and Livio enter the back of the church. They had arrived. _Now_ he could get serious.

**Backup Plan**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-18:25]**

"Are they in there?" Wolfwood asked his taller friend. The windows on this end of the chapel were much higher than in the front and even Livio could only barely see in, standing on his toes.

"Yes, they are..." Livio replied. Moments before, they had climbed up the backside of the mountain. It was quite a climb, but it hardly made a difference to two former members of the Eye of Michael. The priests surrounding the back of the building had been a different matter, but the majority of them were taken out before their comrades were made aware. Before long Livio and Wolfwood had laid out a dozen of the men along the back of the church and they were now alone. "It looks like Milly may have been hurt...there's blood on her cheek."

Wolfwood fumed, "If he did anything to hurt her I'll..." He forced himself to calm down. This was no time for hysterics. "Is there a way in the back?"

Livio moved to look behind the girls to the back of the chapel, "Yes, it looks like there might be another door on the other side. We should go and wait for our master to distract Vash."

His friend merely nodded, wishing he were tall enough to look in the window as Livio did. Were the insurance girls okay? Had Vash done anything to them while they were away? And why were they here instead of staying behind like Knives had planned for them to do? He'd even sold their tomas! So how had they managed to get here so quickly? Leave it to the insurance girls to know the best way to get into trouble. He chuckled to himself, even at a moment like this he certainly liked those girls. Something about the way they were always in the middle of everything. But poor Milly, what had caused her cheek to bleed?

"It's time..." Livio murmured, pulling his double fang guns from the holsters at his sides. "Master is here...we'd better get moving." His friend nodded, flicking the latch that kept his cross punisher wrapped, the fabric fluttered to the dirt. He'd barely needed it during the fight with the priests, only using it to knock them out before dragging them away. Now was the moment. They had yet to see Chapel, their old master. If he were anywhere, it would be here, in the wings, watching, waiting.

"Take it easy," he replied to Double Fang, crossing behind the back of the church and around to the side door. There was a single light over the wooden door. No one was guarding it from the outside now that they had removed the priests. Possibly inside; they knew to be careful. "I'll open the door, you go in first," Nicholas said. He put his hand on the door, holding his cross punisher up in front of him in case the knob turning warned someone on the other side.

With a breath, he pulled it open, cringed, waiting as Livio jumped into the darkness. A moment passed, "It's clear," his silver-haired friend replied from inside. "I don't see anyone back here."

"Still, don't let your guard down."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Livio replied, leading the way this time through the dark hallway that lead up a set of stairs into the back alcove where baptisms were held. The tub area smelled of mildew and blood. Neither of them wanted to know what it looked like in the light, their imaginations filled in the gaps. They could hear voices now. Vash and Knives. A gasp from the girls stood Wolfwood's hair on end.

"Can you see anything?"

Livio nodded, "Yes, Vash is transforming...we'll have our chance..." Suddenly Livio jumped out over the baptism tub, out onto the podium where the girls were cringing in fear from the twins' sudden transformations. "Milly...Meryl!" Livio remembered the dark haired one's name suddenly as he landed in front of them.

"Livio!" Milly gasped, then shut her mouth, looking instantly at the plants as Vash hurdled after Knives. Luckily they hadn't heard her gasp. "Thank goodness, you must do something to save Mr. Knives!"

Wolfwood crawled up behind them, loosening Milly's ropes. "No can do, Big Girl. We're under direct orders to get you to safety. Spikey can manage on his own, I assure you."

"But what if he can't?" Meryl gasped, Knives was on his feet but bleeding from his shoulder as he leapt out the open doors into the night. "What if he gets killed or that weapon...or whatever it is...goes off?"

Livio hefted Meryl onto his shoulder without untying her. "Then we'd better be far away from here."

Wolfwood helped Milly get to her feet, "Are you okay, Big Girl?" He licked a finger and wiped away the drying blood on her cheek, luckily it had been a minor wound. She smiled as he squeezed her shoulder. Milly brushed off her butt and then dashed down into the pews to grab her stungun.

"Let's go." She said, taking one last glance over her shoulder. "I want to get far away from here..."

**Angel Arms**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-18:40]**

_The girls will be safe soon_, Knives thought to himself, clutching his gun tightly, watching as Vash circled around him. The priests had scattered the moment the two plants hurtled out into the night air. Some of them still remained around the fringes, praying and bowing, but the majority of them ran in fear of the twins' true selves, their feathers glowing in the darkness. _Serves them right, worshiping something they know nothing about, _ he thought in conclusion, never taking an eye off Vash even as he took in his surroundings.

There wasn't much room in front of the church before the sheer drop to the ground below. There wouldn't be much room for them to fight, not much room at all. Those who didn't leave the cliff soon would have no way to get down fast enough if something happened. Knives swore to himself as another bullet whizzed by, this one barely grazing his ear. No way had Vash missed on purpose...

The first bullet had been a lucky shot. He wasn't sure how he had hit Knives the first time. His brother was much faster than he remembered. Had Knives been training since their battle at the quick draw tournament? No...this was different, this time he was protecting the girls, but also the town and the people below. The stakes were much higher. He knew it too, if this fight didn't stop Knives, Legato would be close behind to finish the job, which would probably endanger Vash as well. He couldn't let that happen, he had too much left to do before the plants were free.

With renewed energy, Vash threw himself after Knives into the dark night. They might be out of sight of the insurance girls, but he knew they were still in the chapel. If one of the twins were to use their powers, would the girls die as well? He regretted for a moment that he hadn't taken the small one. Would the sex have been better or worse had he forced her? He figured he would never find out, it was much too late to have regrets.

Knives seemed to come from nowhere, Vash's bullet only grazed his ear as Knives fired off his own round. Vash saw the fire from his revolver before he felt the bullet hit. Too fast, how had he gotten so fast? And his machine gun didn't work so he had no back up besides his plant powers that already lit his face and feathered down his arm. He was almost like a living flashlight, the power was even now healing his wound, making it into one of the many scars that already marred his body.

_"Use it..."_ A voice said in his head. _"Finish this and you will survive to save the plants."_

'No... not yet,' Vash thought back fiercely. But if Knives used his power first... The feathers took the rest of his arm and his gun was lost in amongst them. How many rounds did he have left now? Three? Four? They blurred in his memory as he fired at Knives, but his brother avoided it. He was too focused. Vash lost his concentration as that voice broke in again.

_"Finish this."_

Legato. Vash scanned the area with his eyes even as he noticed Knives' attention was taken elsewhere. Did he hear Legato too? No... The girls were being rescued. He could see the shadowed forms leaving out the back, followed by Knives' bodyguards.

Where were _his_ backups? Why had the Gung-Ho Guns abandoned him? And his priests? Chapel was here somewhere, could he handle his students in a one-on-one battle? The Priest Wolfwood and Livio the Doublefang had learned from Chapel at one time, but would they best the old man in battle? Vash didn't have more time to ponder, Knives had come in close now, his own feathers were sharp as knives and eager to cut. Those same knives he had lost his arm to.

"Going to finish it now, Knives? Cut off my head like you did my arm?" Vash sneered, ducking and avoiding the first swipe of the lengthening blade.

Knives hesitated. It was enough. Vash tackled him to the ground, putting his gun to Knives' temple. "Too late, you were always too weak. You never followed through and now you'll regret your hesitation to kill me all those years ago." He cocked the trigger. Vash felt the waves of power from his brother mingling with his own, like static electricity, it snapped and popped around them.

"You're my brother," Knives murmured. "How could I? How can _you_? When I'm dead there will be no one else like you left in the world, is that what you want? To be alone?"

This time it was Vash's turn to hesitate. Of course Knives was right, there were not more like them. Even his sisters would never have the same sentience as Knives did.

_"Kill him."_ Legato again, _"Or I WILL."_ But who was he talking to? Didn't Legato want Knives to survive? Suddenly Vash found himself thrown off of Knives. He struggled in the dirt and barely missed the next bullet aimed his way.

"Damn it, shut UP!" Knives screamed into the night sky. He fired another round, this time not even at Vash. Surprised, Vash took a moment to regroup. So, Knives heard the voice of Legato too? What did it mean? Were they both being set against one another by Legato? He didn't take the opportunity to shoot Knives. Instead, he stood, watching as his twin fiercely swung back again. "Where is he? Why is he in my head?"

Vash didn't answer. He heard Legato's words again, this time, telling him to use his angel arm. He wouldn't, even though it feathered out even now, no, what was the point of using an ultimate weapon unless _he_ wanted to? But now this wasn't about him as about what Legato wanted. No... He wasn't going to do what some scum of the earth was telling him to! Even if it did mean putting off his revenge on Knives for another day. "Legato, show yourself!"

_"You have been a bitter disappointment to me... all of these years all I wanted to do was worship you for saving my life...to follow you in whatever ways you wanted to go... to wipe out the human scum that populates this planet... and instead you turn into _this?" Knives heard the voice in his head, knew this time it was directed at him rather than at both of them. Legato was crazy, he knew that, he suspected even before he lost the memories of the evil he once was. When had the master become the slave, the slave the master? He eyed Vash who was now back on his feet again. Knives had jumped up, facing the darkness, shooting a shadow that moved.

"Show yourself!" Vash yelled from somewhere nearby, but their only reply was laughter, dark, menacing, and toe-curling. Knives turned to look at his brother, his gun dropped to his side now rather than aiming at him. Could this be his chance? Maybe now he could get to Vash.

"Vash! We must stop him before..."

Suddenly a dark figure appeared behind Vash. Legato revealed himself from the darkness and Knives took a shot at him.... missed Vash by mere inches, but it was enough to confuse Vash, who lifted his arm again. "What the f....? If you want it _that_ way...." He lifted his gun again, but didn't fire. "He's messing with us both."

Knives nodded slowly, Y_es, that's right, now you're getting it, we have a bigger enemy to destroy first._ What could they do, so far Legato had not used his powers to directly control them, but it was coming, both of them knew that he could set off their weapons at any time.

Had the girls gotten to safety now? Knives hadn't seen them in awhile, so maybe... he hoped they were safe and sound, far away from this fight. Things were messy. He could feel the feathers of his gate reacting to Vash, could feel them reacting against each other. Knives had used these powers long ago to cut off Vash's arm. Yes, he could remember it. In fact, right now, things were starting to come clearer to him. He remembered the pain of waking up to know that Rem and Vash were hiding something from him... or trying to. He remembered Tessla and her death, finding her split open for some experiment. How was that so different than what he wanted to do to the humans? Cut them up and...

_No,_ Knives reminded himself. Humans are misguided, yes, evil at times too, but they were good, deep down they were born good. Just because a few of them had done something bad at one time... he remembered how sweet it was to kiss Meryl, and how decent and good she was, even as she was getting herself into trouble. No, humans were not all bad. His bodyguards were the most loyal people he had ever met, and Conrad was like a father to him. No, he had learned since living around humans that he no longer wanted to destroy them.

Suddenly, his musings were cut short as Vash threw a punch and wrestled Knives to the ground. Startled, Knives moved his arm, blade resting mere millimeters from Vash's skin. His feather blades were extremely sharp, and he had trouble keeping them from drawing blood even as Vash aimed his gun at Knives' temple.

Vash had a moment to realize Knives' blade was too close to his throat for comfort. When had this happened? Yes, he'd wrestled his brother down to the ground, but when had the tables turned? "You'll have to kill me, or I'll kill you," Vash murmured. Knives frowned, confused, but Vash continued, this being the only way he could think of to talk to Knives without Legato overhearing. "I'm flawed. I won't be able to finish what I started to do in your name. I'm starting to doubt my beliefs... I like humans, well, mostly _female_ humans, but I like them. Why? I shouldn't... they've hurt me all my life, and yet, here I'm wondering suddenly why you are so adamant about protecting them. I'm flawed and my arm will never function properly again and so you might as well kill me."

Knives' lips pursed, only seconds had passed during Vash's speech, but it felt like an eternity. The electricity sparked between them. Was this flow of power returning their memories to them? He couldn't tell, but it would explain why Vash had suddenly changed directions. Knives thought he'd try to use this to his advantage. "We can stop him together if we try. We can make you whole again."

"How could I go back after what I did?"

"I did," Knives replied.

Vash pulled slightly on the trigger, but not enough to fire. Who would be faster, the gun or the knife? Would he have time to find out? And what about Legato?

"Shoot me," Knives said between gritted teeth. "It's the only way he'll come out of hiding."

Vash blinked, "No... I want to get my revenge MY way, not his..."

Knives pressed his blade into Vash's neck, "Then I'll have to kill you... to finish this... I'm sorry Vash..."

Vash's gun went off and the bullet ripped through Knives' temple and he went limp.

Standing, he could feel the eyes of the priests on him, and heard a scream from the girls in the distance. _Damn,_ the bodyguards hadn't taken them away yet? No good, he'd have to stall longer. Legato appeared there suddenly, just as Knives had thought. "Now we can finish what my first master started." He squatted down on a knee, "You're my master now, use your power to destroy these pitiful insects."

Vash sneered, "You ARE as crazy as Knives said you were. I'll do no such thing."

One piercing yellow eye shown in the darkness. "Then I'll have to do it _for_ you." The glow became brighter and Vash realized he'd lost his ability to move his limbs.

"What...? No, you cannot, I'm your master now!"

Legato laughed. "I will finish what my master planned, we will destroy the humans." He looked down at Knives' lifeless body. "You wished for the plants to live free, and I shall make sure that happens." He smirked, using his powers to change Vash's arm into the ultimate weapon, the angel-arm. The gun lowered to face the city. "The humans will know fear they have never experienced before!"

"NO! NOT AGAIN!" Vash screamed, fighting Legato, trying to move, to do _anything_ and Knives, he wasn't dead, what was he waiting for? Vash had missed the vital spot on purpose, the bullet had only grazed his skull...and if he had counted right, Knives had one more bullet... wait, what about his own? But he had no power over his body at all.

Vash's scream carried into the night, the power building. He wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. _Knives, do something!_ He thought fiercely, _You got us into this mess!_

That very moment he squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry..." The power was too much, and he needed release. Suddenly, just at the moment the angel arm lit up the sky, he felt something take a hold of his coattails and pull him backward off his feet. The gun fired, but swung in an arch as he fell. The light was tremendous, the power was unbearable. Vash wondered what would happen to them, had they saved the city?

A gun went off and suddenly Vash felt his body return to him, but it was too late. The power built even as he managed to lift it to face the dark night sky. It hit the fifth moon, digging a hole into the surface. But the power was too much for even this, and the mountain where he stood started to crumble. The church was destroyed, and Vash opened his eyes for a moment, looking down to see Knives' hand still clutching his jacket. He was passed out or dead now, Vash wasn't sure which. Legato was dead, a bullet through his head, Knives had saved the city.

But the light continued to crescendo and Vash closed his eyes again. "Goodbye Rem... I think Knives saved _me_ rather than the other way around... I'm sorry..." And the light blinked out as did his consciousness.


	29. CH 28 Waking Up

_A bit of history on this chapter: Dwellin started the original version of this chapter back in 2005. Yes...it's been 5 years! (Actually the story is now over 6 years old.) Dwellin has had to wait patiently for all this time until I could get the story written up to this point – goodness we've been on a wild ride all this time! And...it's not over! But, we're finally going to see where the namesake of this story comes from – because, after all, this story was about Dark Vash. What's to come is anyone's guess! _

_Thanks to all of our readers who have stuck by us for...6 years! And also all of the new readers who have just joined us recently. We hope we don't disappoint! MillyT_

_"We are not responsible for any stock market fluctuations, acts of nature, or the common cold, only for the story we are submitting. If you have any thoughts we would like to hear them (kind ones are acknowledged, mean ones are fed to our pet dragon, Slumberbumpkin the Not So Fierce.). We don't own Trigun, (wish we did though!) and we certainly don't own Vash (I know, I already checked into it) , and we don't own Nightow (do I need to repeat myself?), all we own is not really worth mentioning here. Please enjoy your stay and keep all hands and arms inside the ride at all times, and your seats...well, you don't have to keep them in the upright positions! Enjoy your stay!" _

**Chapter 28 Waking Up**

**After the Battle**

**[Stardate: 11-10-0110-20:00]**

"The sky is breaking apart!" Milly yelled and even though Meryl's head was close to her friends, the words could barely be heard above the uproar. She didn't bother to say anything for hell on earth was intensifying to a frightening degree.

Meryl only had a brief moment to wonder where Knives was, and if Vash was with him, and if either one had set off this catastrophe of nature.

For her part, Milly worried about Wolfwood. He and Livio left after dragging them to the bottom of the mountain with Dr. Conrad and turned to race back up the mountain.

Were they all right? Milly desperately wanted to know. With every fiber of her being she poured her fear into a silent prayer and hope that all those she cared about would walk out of this safe and whole so she could... what? Where was that specific thought going?

Wherever it was headed, the blond had to abandon it as a spherical-shaped inferno began to consume the sky from horizon to horizon. Having seen many disasters, manmade variety and mother nature, Milly knew it couldn't be covering the whole planet, but right now every cell of her being screamed that they were going to die. There was nothing left in the world except for one spot of bright sky above them, the grit of sand underneath, and the arm of her best friend around her. This was not how she had thought she would die. No, it should be as an old lady in a huge bed with her own tribe of grandchildren and children surrounding her. Certainly not like this!

Then, growing louder by the second, was the sound of roaring like a sandsteamer going full tilt, while some demonic giant hand was raking through buildings leaving rubble and ruin behind. When Milly was positive it couldn't get worse, if anything the sphere of light grew brighter, usurping the dominion of the suns. Nothing else could be heard over the raging wind and roaring in the sky.

An instinct greater than anything they could logically explain caused them to grab onto each other and dive for the ground behind the largest boulder they could find to hide behind.

Above them, a black whirlwind of such huge proportions filled the whole sky, rotating while emitting flashes of blue lightening. Electricity sliced through the darkening sky, spewing out death into the howling of the wind. Sand tore at their hair and clothing, scraping any exposed skin, hands clinging in desperation to one another.

Neither woman could explain how long the clash in the heavens continued. All they knew when the world returned back to normal was that, surprisingly, they still were alive.

Meryl and Milly sat up, stared at each other dazed and traumatized.

Slowly Meryl blinked her gray silvery orbs and then cleared her throat testing out her vocal cords before trying to speak. Her mouth opened before realizing she was bereft of any vocabulary to express what she was feeling because she didn't know.

Not so Milly. "Wow, that was really awesomely bad," Milly murmured as she slowly stood to her feet and began to brush the clinging sand from her coat. Meryl nodded and shakily got to her feet as well.

Both leaned against the rock and finally Meryl could put a coherent thought together. "I am quite surprised that we aren't dead."

Milly didn't hear her as she was whipping her head vigorously back and forth trying to shake the sand out of it. "Eh Meryl? What was that?"

Meryl could only shake her head as her rational brain began to work again and realized that this was what she had read about in the reports. Reading about such an event was totally different than living through it. This was the same power that had leveled cities? But which of the plants had caused it? Were they still alive after the damage was done? Where was Vash? And Knives? Where were Knives' bodyguards? Had they survived? What about Dr. Conrad? Too many questions were swirling in her brain.

"Who knows except those at the very center?" She didn't even want to tell Milly her theory, but she suspected that they would never see the men who caused it alive again.

"Let's see if we can find any survivors." Milly said with a determined and serious expression. Meryl nodded and then squared her shoulders.

The two friends stepped out from behind the rock and halted in their tracks as in the distance they beheld the devastation and destruction left behind the battling lights in the sky. Maybe they hadn't survived...they'd wound up in some kind of hell on earth.

As they stared, they could tell even from this distance, not a building was taller than the first story. Both woman goggled, eyes wide and disbelieving at the sight that met their eyes. Then tears began to fun down their faces.

Milly let out a keening moan, and Meryl could only makes small gasps of despair for once again words failed them both as they stared in horror at the sight.

In a hoarse, strangled voice Milly said, "Meryl, we have to go see if there is anyone left."

Meryl shook her head, "We can't help like this, we have no supplies on us. What good would it do to find anyone if we can't help them?" It was all she could do to keep from whimpering. Both girls were trained in First Aid, but this! A small moan worked its way up her throat. She finally choked out, "We need to find some supplies first, then look for survivors."

Milly hated to admit it, but Meryl was right. She hastily looked around them, they would be lucky if anything, or anyone, had survived the explosion.

An hour later they were both at the rock again with Milly leading a pair of tomas and managed a wan smile at Meryl's fierce expression.

Meryl snorted, placed her fists on her hips and frowned at the beasts as Milly led the beasts up to the meeting spot.

"Now Meryl, don't give them that look, they aren't purebreds like the ones Mr. Knives sold, but they'll do the job." One snorted and sneezed, covering Meryl in snot.

"Hey?!" The caped agent glared at the two tomas, and sands take her if they didn't have a sheepish expression on their faces! The raven-haired agent didn't have time for a tirade however, and turned back to the business at hand.

"Well," she ignored the tomas and turned back to Milly, once again squaring her shoulders. "Are you ready? This might be gruesome you know, we have never covered a major catastrophe quite like before, you know."

Milly nodded, blue eyes worried but resolute. "I'm ready Meryl. We need to see if anyone needs our help, that's our job after all." She turned to stare at the ruined city. "And what we should do even if it weren't our jobs. There may be people who need us."

Then with tears filling her eyes but blinking them away up so they couldn't fall, she continued, "And let's go find Mr. Priest and Mr. Livio..." She smiled, "And Mr. Knives too..."

Meryl took the reins of her toma and they began walking toward what was left of the city dreading what she would find and afraid of what she wouldn't.

**Found**

**[Stardate: 11-11-0110-02:00]**

"Look Meryl! I found someone! An old man!" Meryl turned to look. Milly was on a rise where a building used to be. All Meryl could see from her lower vantage point was the fluttering of some black tattered rags in the wind that was beginning to pick up. They wouldn't have much time to search; a huge sandstorm could be seen on the horizon.

Meryl hurriedly climbed the pile of debris to reach the top. Looking down she saw what Milly was standing over, or rather, whom. It was the ragged form of a tall man with a shock of white hair tangled around his head and face.

Meryl quickly but gently, checked for broken bones and bleeding wounds but couldn't find any evidence of either. It was a relief because that meant they could transport the old man from the scene and get him to the next town to a doctor. With the tomas they were riding especially bred for long-distance travel, they would make it there in no time, well before the worst of the sand winds hit anyway.

Meryl sighed sadly. This was the first person they had found. The worry lines on her forehead deepened. The eerie silence of the place was starting to get on her nerves. Only hours and it was beginning to feel like ghost town.

When they had first started searching, both women had spoken in normal tones but it was long before the creepy stillness worked on them and soon had them speaking to each other in hushed tones. Milly's cry after finding the old man was the first normal sound since they had first arrived.

When Meryl went to hook her arms under the man's armpits, Milly had stopped her with an amused look. She moved her smaller friend back, then stooped and lifted the injured man up in her arms as if lifting a small child. Walking back to the tomas she waited until Meryl was on hers and carefully situated the man in front of Meryl. She had to smile when Meryl grunted when the full weight of the man leaned back against her.

"Milly," Meryl complained with a grunt, "I can't see around him!"

"Don't worry, I'll take the reins of your toma and lead. That way all you need to do is make sure he doesn't fall off. How's that?" She put her foot in the stirrup of her toma but looked over at her friend who was barely visible behind the body of the old man. "I can take him on my toma if you want Meryl."

The man's back was flush up against her and Meryl was having a hard time turning her face under his weight so that it wasn't being smashed, but damnit, she wasn't some helpless hothouse flower! She could do this.

Milly thought she heard a muffled, 's'alright' but it could have easily have been, 'go right'. She shrugged. Meryl was tougher than she looked and twice as stubborn. The tall blond swung up into the saddle and gave her toma a cluck and a light tap with her heels and spared a quick glance up at the sky. They should just make Serenity when the storm hit.

"He's really heavy for an old guy." At least that's what Milly interpreted the muffled comment that came from the direction of Meryl's toma.

**Waking Up**

**[Stardate: 11-15-0110-12:00]**

Vash's head hurt, his arms, legs, torso, neck, hell even his hair hurt. He had been hammered in the past but this was excessive even for him. He was pretty sure the torment between his ears involved anvils, blacksmith hammers, sandsteamers at full tilt and guns going off, all of which resulted in this horrendous hangover possessing every inch of him. Even if he couldn't remember what happened the night before, he sure hoped it was fun and briefly wondered, while lifting a hand to hold his pounding head, if she had been worth it. He wouldn't be surprised to find out that he had been trampled by a whole herd of jealous boyfriends. Very heavy and angry boyfriends, with hobnail boots.

He would have groaned but his head wouldn't tolerate it. What he was aware of, besides every beat of his heart sending a nerve-wrenching pain stabbing through his temples, was how dry his mouth was. There wasn't anything he wanted more right now than to grab a bottle of anything alcoholic and get drunk all over again.

There was a stir in the air that registered against the skin of his face and the soft rustle of clothing along with a very soft sigh. Vash tensed. He wasn't alone.

He cursed the pain of 'paying the piper' after an all-night drinking binge which kept him from noticing immediately. Slowly he pried one eyelid open. Even that hurt.

He didn't see anything but now he could hear water running in what must be the bathroom somewhere behind his head. Once the water tap was turned off he could hear a very soft humming. If he weren't on edge and in such incredible pain then he would have taken the time to listen to the soothing sound.

Slowly, he inched his hand closer to his gun and felt a brief moment of panic when his fingers closed on empty air. Damnit, had he pawned his gun again? It was a rather frequent occurrence, but he always took care to remember where he hocked it so he could break in the next night to retrieve it. His brow furrowed as he tried to retrieve the elusive memory of the night before but came up blank.

Dropping the effort of trying to recall the previous night's events and disregarding as much as he could the pain lancing through his head and twisting his gut, the tall man's eyes snapped open even as his hand searched his side. That was when he noticed for the first time that his gun belt was gone from around his waist as well. Frantically he patted the bed around him and tried to lift his head to assist in the search. However, as soon as he lifted his head a fraction of an inch off of the pillow the pain in his head burst across his awareness in a new and heightened form of torture.

Collapsing back onto the pillow with a groan and a curse he contemplated swearing off drinking forever, well, at least for a day or two until he recovered.

He heard quick light steps coming toward him. Then it was quiet while a soft cool hand covered his brow.

"Hmmm, I think your fever is better today."

_Better? This is better? I've had gunshot wounds that were less painful than this variety of _**better**_! _

Vash tried and finally succeeded in prying open the same eye again. The vision that met him was that girl, the pretty insurance agent,_ his_ girl. Both eyes flew open in surprise as she came closer. He had been plotting for weeks how to get closer to her, if he had known it would take tying one on he would have tried that sooner. She was looking down at what she was holding in her hands so he quickly shut his eyes again pretending to be less conscious than he was.

He would have grinned, if his teeth and even his gums didn't hurt so badly.

Just then he felt a cool wet cloth being applied to his forehead, the sensation was so welcome and delicious that he sighed in utter disbelief. After that she gently patted his face. Stubbornly he fought the relief flooding through him. He didn't like being this vulnerable, especially when he didn't remember what had happened the night before, _and where the hell was his gun?_!

When she reached over him for the other side of his face, he grabbed her small wrist. He must have exerted more pressure than he intended as he heard a muffled gasp. He smirked, knowing she was surprised that he could grab her so expertly without even opening his eyes.

The diminutive agent tried to tug her wrist free but quickly found she was unable to break his hold. He held onto it firmly until she eventually stopped struggling and sat quietly waiting for him to make a move or say something. She was probably thinking that he was having a dream or was on the verge of waking up from a twilight dream.

The little female was quiet but he could feel the tension in her muscles and knew right away she was not one of those who would wait patiently forever. He was half tempted to see how long it would take before she exploded in anger.

He licked his dry lips and tried to ask a question but nothing came out but a parched rasp.

When she saw his need for a drink, she asked, "Please, if you let go of my arm I will get you a glass of water. I am not going to hurt you..."

_As if you could_. He thought wryly to himself. Curiously, it almost seemed as if she didn't know who he was. But hadn't they had multiple meetings? She couldn't have forgotten who he was already, could she?

"... I have a pitcher right here on the nightstand next to your bed..."

_Bed? _He wondered whose bed he was in, (maybe hers? One could only hope. He would ask later.) and what town they were in. Try as he might, Vash couldn't remember. It was a decidedly unsettling feeling and one he wasn't used to. He couldn't even begin to think when he had been in such a position before, but what was clearly known was to him was that he didn't like it, no, not one least little bit at all.

"...Now, please, if you would just let go, I will get you that glass," as she continued to talk soft and soothingly to him. _She's hoping to put me at ease like I am a child or a mental patient._

He could hear the wince in her voice as she tried to tug once more against the tight hold he had around her ridiculously tiny wrist, and he wasn't being gentle either. There would be marks left from his rough grip, but he wanted her to know that however he might be affected by the hair of the dog, he wasn't so weak he couldn't take care of a little girl. A corner of his mouth tugged in an unconscious attempt to grin as she continued to talk as if nothing were amiss. Her voice was strained but still low and soft. Feisty little thing, he had to give her that.

"...I am sure you need it by now, you have been out for days. We were beginning to really get worried about you."

_We? _There were more people here? Oh yes, her partner. He wondered how many other people, if any, were in the residence, and really, just where the hell was _here _anyway?! He was about to stretch out with his mind to search the place for signatures of additional humans when another lightening bolt of thought-dispersing pain flashed through him. He couldn't hold back the groan that ripped out of his throat. He didn't realize he had let the girl's hand go until he heard water being poured into a glass and felt her return just as she promised. Fool.

He heard the sound of something scraping along the wood floor and guessed she was pulling up a stool next to the bed. Once she was seated, the girl slid a slender arm under the top of his shoulders. He wondered if this little slip of a thing actually believed she was going to be able to lift him?

He heard a huff of air being expelled as she labored with the effort of trying to hoist him up. Vash would have laughed at her exertion except for the fact that once again, another shot of pain speared between his temples. It took a moment before it faded but it wasn't soon enough for his tastes. The plant gasped and was reminded that his mouth and lips were as dry and parched as the desert. Cracking his eyelids open a mere crack, he was in time to see a frown of worry crossing her features. It would have been amusing at any other time.

Seeing and feeling her continued efforts to lift him upright, he decided she would need help if he wanted to get a drink of water from the glass she was holding. And right now he was desperate for that water. Without thinking, he opened his eyes to fix them on the glass in her hand.

For her part, Meryl watched as the white-haired man looked out at her through puffy slits before staring at the glass. She went stone still for a second before giving him a fake smile which she was sure he would be able to see it for what it was if he weren't so consumed with his own problems at the moment.

When he had opened his eyes it was all she could do to bite her tongue back on an exclamation of surprise. Eyes the color of red rubies, the kind that could chill the marrow of one's bones!

She nearly called for Milly in fright, but remembered her blond friend had gone out for groceries a little while ago and wouldn't be back right away. Milly time wasn't the same as normal time and the shopping trip never took the same amount of time twice.

The raven-haired woman tried to put a pleasant expression on her face but felt she was grinning like an idiot. This was the first time he had opened his eyes in the time since they had found him so she was startled beyond words.

When she and Milly had found him after the great light explosion, his eyes were shut and he was in a near coma-like state. He had stayed that way until right this moment.

But Milly, bless her Thompson genes, had carried him into the house as if he weighed no more than a toddler when they reached Serenity. Thankfully the town had a house provided for by the company.

Meryl was a bit reluctant to be in the range of Bernadelli influence but after Jeonora Rock was destroyed the agents here evacuated and they were easily able to move in, explaining to the town they were taking over. No one asked any questions from that point on. Except maybe to bring an insurance claim here and there.

Milly had helped her move all their belongings into what was once the master bedroom but now set up with the bunk beds, and they put the old man in the one guest bedroom. It was smaller, but did have a half-bath. Their bedroom also had a half-bath but they tended to use the larger bath in the hallway across from their room since it had the only shower in the house.

After moving him, as they were washing the soot, gritty sand, and smoke from his face, they recognized him.

After a few seconds of stunned shock and an exchange of panicked looks, they finished cleaning his face and hair. Then they stripped him, but not before removing his gun belt which Meryl took and hid. They removed the black rags, all that remained of the jacket his habitually wore. However, when it came time to bare skin, Meryl had to leave and let Milly strip the rest of his clothes and put him in some men's pajamas they found in the closet. Once she was finished with that, Meryl returned. She could have done it if she were the only one here to take care of him, but she was grateful that Milly was from a big, noisy, loud family with an abundance of brothers, uncles, nephews and cousins, and sometimes, some of them got sick.

After that though, Meryl took on the brunt of care. Milly couldn't stand to stay cooped up in a house for long although she was a tender nurse when giving Meryl a break.

Otherwise, Milly went back with the organized team made up of Serenity citizens to go and help their sister city. They stayed there several days searching for other survivors. It was a dejected and sad woman that came back each day to report that the teams couldn't find any other people, living or dead. At the end of the final day, both women had just stared at each other, trying to comprehend what the lack of bodies on the scene could possibly mean. By an unspoken, mutual agreement, the women decided not to bring up the subject until such a time as they could focus on the mystery, but now was not that time.

Mostly they debated on what to do about Vash. (As if they could do anything with him!) He was changed in appearance, but what, if anything else had changed? It was the subject of many of their conversations. According to Dr. Conrad the first change to Vash and Knives came at July. Had this explosion reverted them to their previous selves? If it did, did that mean Vash was his old self again and had Knives reverted to his former evil human-hating self? Since Vash was unresponsive and there was no news about any of the others, all their theories were merely speculation.

At first, Meryl rationalized that even if this was indeed the evil Vash that had pursued them for months, maybe he would know what happened up on that hill. Maybe he would even remember what happened to Knives. Then perhaps in his weakened state they could turn him in to the authorities. She was sure the bounty still rested on Vash's head, sure he looked a bit different, but this was still Vash, and now he had yet another mark on his record.

Meryl, for some reason slowly developed an irrational need to take care of him. Where this urge came from was beyond her, but Milly didn't argue, although she couldn't help but give her petite friend a knowing look which only made Meryl huff at her in irritation. The one thing the tall blond kept saying was that she was certain that when Mister Vash woke up, he would be a good man again, which just made Meryl roll her eyes at her friend's naive assumption. So here they were, clinging to the last survivor, even after all the things he had done to them and others since they had first bumped into him in front of the theatre all that time ago.

Vash watched her attention drift off and then snap back before looking at the glass in her hand. Even though he was thirsty beyond belief, he took note of the fact that the glass she held was an expensive, thick-bottomed tumbler. He knew they couldn't be in a hotel, not unless they were in December where the only classy joint on the planet existed had crystal such as this.

As she lifted the heavy glass to his lips, Vash watched. One of her arms supported his weight while the other reached to help him steady the glass. It was difficult since after that spurt of energy he displayed earlier, his arms were trembling and heavy. He was thankful for her support, not that he would tell her that of course.

Meryl watched as the plant closed his eyes and tried to gulp from the glass. It was an effort to keep him from guzzling it all down at once. As she kept the flow to greedy sips her eyes slowly lingered over his naked chest where he had a few deep scars crossing over it diagonally. There was a metal ring around one bicep where the entire left arm ended but she already knew it was the attachment to his fake arm which had been destroyed in the destruction of Serenity.

Otherwise he had a perfect physique, broad shoulders tapering down to a tight, flat abdomen, sleek thin hips and, thank God there was a sheet and pajamas covering the rest!

_Meryl Stryfe, shame on you! You know better!_ The small, dark-haired woman rebuked herself and jerked her eyes back to his face. The glass tumbler was half empty and she decided that his stomach needed a chance to give the water time to absorb.

With just those few sips, Vash could feel life-sustaining strength returning to him. After all, like all of his kind, he was really was _self_-sustaining, not needing much in the way of nourishment for his survival, but he _did_ need water. And this cool, refreshing liquid was a gift from heaven, if a place existed for such as himself. He could feel vigor rushing back into his limbs and his thoughts were already becoming clearer. Just as he reached up to upend the glass into his mouth, she pulled it away from his lips.

"Not so much at first or you will get sick."

He wanted to shoot her.

Meryl raised her eyebrows at his ill-tempered look as they continued to stare into each other's eyes. If truth be told, she was feeling a little stupid reminding him of something that every child knew from the time they learned to walk.

**No one** told him what do to... except... now that he thought about it, she was right, his stomach was acting a wee bit queasy. He watched as she pulled the glass away from him. His eyes narrowed, as he calculated the distance between his hand, the glass and how much speed and effort it would take to grab it back.

He gave a soft snort out of his nose, barely discernable but enough for her to hear. She frowned at him again and he matched her glare for glare. He could see that she was uncomfortable but determined to do her best by him while also trying not let him intimidate her.

Vash studied her face a moment, taking in the light of her gray eyes with hints of lilac shimmering in them. He couldn't help devouring the sight of her delicate features and observed soft cheeks glowing from the muted sunlight filtering through the small window, the little chin, the tiny button of a nose, and the slight arch in her eyebrow. She was as beautiful as he remembered, he decided, but not what he wanted at the moment as his gaze bounced back to the glass only a foot or so away in front of his face before returning to lock gazes with her again.

As if reading his mind about the glass she started to sit back up to move it out of his reach when she witnessed an impish gleam lighting his vermilion eyes.

Before she could pull her arm out from behind him, he relaxed back into the bed so that her arm was pinned.

Suddenly he was feeling much better. Vash felt her give a little experimental tug on her arm. With a sly grin twisting his lips, he pushed back into the mattress knowing she wasn't going anywhere. He could see the dawning comprehension on her face that she was aware of this fact also. There were just a few questions that needed answering and he just decided that she wasn't leaving until she answered them to his satisfaction besides settling this little tug-of-war concerning the water. He felt her tug again, with a little more force this time.

"Uhmmmm, Mr..." Meryl paused, until this point he hadn't acted like the Vash, or the pretend-Knives of the past that she and Milly were used to. So, rather than call him by his name, she decided to test him. "Mr....do you remember anything?" The query left hanging in the air between them he ignored. Vash rolled his head to eye the ceiling for a moment before letting his eyelids slide shut.

Meryl jerked harder as she watched the stranger's eyes drift shut. He couldn't fall asleep now! She would be stuck here for who knew how long! Feeling a little panicky about her situation, that is, until she saw the ghost of a smile play about the corners of his lips. That white-haired rat! He knew what he was doing and he had the audacity to enjoy it too! A frown began to form over her brow as she considered her predicament.

Vash's eyes flew open as something finally sunk in. Wait a minute.... _days_? Is that what she had just said? He had been out for... _days_? How was that possible? He could have sworn that he was waking up from a night out on the town. He frowned in up at the ceiling in deep thought as he tried to remember what was the last thing he had been doing. The most recent thing he remembered was tossing back a few at the... what was the name of that place again, oh yes, the Dancing Dust Devil. Nice place, for the disreputable sort for folk of his ilk.

He felt another tug under his shoulders and from the corner of his eye watched her vain attempt to jerk her arm free. He could have laughed at the cute, little frown on her brow and the concentration with which she was focusing on the problem at hand.

The arm was so crushed under him that she couldn't even slide it out. With teeth clenched Meryl tried pulling again. Sands take him! He had to be deliberately putting his weight on it and now her arm was starting to go numb from loss of circulation. At the moment she was regretting leaving her derringers in her cape hanging in the front room closet. Who knew there would be a need for them in tending this poor, weak, suffering _stranger_ with the freaky red eyes! And darn it Milly wasn't even back yet, otherwise she could have lifted him off of her arm immediately!

Meryl stared down at her trapped arm in mounting frustration and then glanced over at the glass she still held in her other hand.

Vash wondered what....

Meryl poured the rest of the water over his face.

With an expletive strong enough to peel paint, Vash jerked himself upright.

"What the hell woman!" He roared; he was sure a vein was ready to pop from the pressure building up in his skull. He didn't need this aggravation or blatant disrespect!

In a movement so quick it was barely discernable he caught her wrist and gave a quick, hard yank that had her flying off of the stool and slamming into his chest. Another time this would have been fun, but not today.

He raised up the arm holding her wrist until she was practically dangling from his grasp so that they were nose to nose. Vash noticed that she was hauling back her fist, which incidentally, still held the glass. He wanted to grab that wrist also, but for the first time, realized that his left arm was missing. _Damn it._ How had that escaped his notice? He was definitely not at his best.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Questioned the fuming woman struggling in vain to free herself from his hold.

Vash blinked. Her eyes were no longer gray but were a soft heather with lilac highlights that glittered with her charged emotions.

"Just get me another glass of water woman and this time I will decide how much is too much." He growled at her.

"_You _are too much Mr... er... and I didn't catch your name." He sure was starting to _act_ like the Vash she knew, but he wasn't trying to feel her up either, or yell about Knives...so what did he remember?

"You didn't catch it because I didn't throw it."

An elfin smile greeted his suspicious look. He had her dangling helplessly in the air and she had the damn gall to smile at him! What was wrong with her? The little snip needed enlightenment and he was the one to provide it.

Smiling with a hint of vindictiveness, he was about to issue a threat when Meryl spoke up.

"You've been out for quite a while now, but you really don't remember what happened, do you?" Meryl questioned, her brows furrowing.

Vash's smile faded as a snippet of memory came back to him... _"Why else, I'm following you to find Vash the Stampede._ _Not that I couldn't find my brother on my own,_ he admitted to himself, _but it's handy to have a pretty backside to follow in the meantime."_

Her eyes searched his face as his eyes took on a faraway glaze. Then, without thinking about it, they slowly drank in the sight of him from the top of his tousled white hair falling down in spikes around his forehead to sink in a lingering caress of shadowed eyes down his naked, scarred chest, until they reached the gathered sheet hiding the rest of his self. Realizing where her gaze had landed, Meryl jerked her blushing face back up to meet his crimson-colored eyes.

He held her gaze in a narrow-eyed glare until her expression changed as she hung suspended from his grasp...

Unexpectedly air burst out of his lungs in a forceful explosion. Vash dropped her wrists and clutched at his side. He bent over in his attempt to suck in much-needed air. The little vixen and kneed him in the side! Who knew she possessed needle-sharp knees!

Once he was able to breathe without pain he was going to make this raven-haired witch regret her actions! With a snarl forming on his face he lifted his head just in time to see the glass tumbler slamming into the middle of his forehead. He was unconscious before his head hit the pillow.

Meryl let out a breath. "Dang you Vash! You are the most infuriating patient I have had the misfortune to deal with! I don't care if you are **dead** next time I see you, I am **not** nursing you back to health!"

With that, she stood up and absently smoothed her skirt while watching the dribbles of water sluggishly slide down his face. It was then it dawned on her what she had just done. Even though Meryl knew she was alone, she couldn't stop from glancing guiltily around the room. Knocking a patient unconscious was probably not the best way to deal with the problem of him having the people skills of a sand lizard.

"Oh crap!" Surprisingly the glass had only broken in several large slivers rather than a million pieces. The glass shards littered his face, chest, and on the covers around him. Seeing the sparkling sharpness of the pieces, Meryl snapped to and immediately felt even guiltier for her impulsive action. If he got cut it would be her fault. Conscience in full control she immediately dropped to the floor and reached for the nearest glass shard.

Feeling a sting on her hand, she looked down to see that she had received a small cut on the inner part of the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. What an inconvenient place to get cut. Pinching the area to keep it from bleeding she dashed for bathroom.

A moment later she returned, with a band aid over the cut and a small hand broom, dust pan, and some damp towels. First she stripped the sheet off, before hurriedly bending to the floor to sweep up the mess.

Meryl heard footsteps coming down the hall before the door opened and Milly stuck her head in to check up on nurse and patient her day out. Meryl looked up to see Milly's two light blue eyes peering in and then widen in shock.

"Are you all right Meryl? I thought I heard a noise as I came in the door."

"Oh I have a little cut but apparently our 'old geezer' here is a whole lot more feisty and healthy than we first believed." She shot the man an exasperated look. "He really doesn't remember what happened. In fact, I have a suspicion that he's lost a whole lot of his memories, if not most of them, since, well, maybe the sandsteamer."

She picked up the sheet from where she had dropped it on the floor and folded it carefully so that the slivers of glass didn't fall out.

Milly frowned as she advanced to the middle of the room. Meryl had to bash the patient over the head with a glass? What had Mr. Vash done now? She studied the unconscious plant with a grim look before turning to Meryl with hands on hips.

"Want me to shoot him Meryl?" She asked.

Meryl shook her head with a smile, "No, no heed to. I persuaded him that sleep was what he needed."

Milly beamed at her friend, "You always know what to do Meryl! I am sure he will come to realize just how lucky he is to have you around."

Meryl gave her friend a rueful smile, "Well, the jury's still out on that one and I am sure if he were in a condition to respond right now I doubt he would agree with you." She placed the sheet by the door and then turned to contemplate the sleeping man.

"Okay, now I need you to help me change the bottom sheets."

"Right Meryl!" The women advanced toward the bed.

**Leaving**

**[Stardate: 11-16-0110-00:00]**

Vash woke up gradually with a stuffy-headed feeling as if his noggin was filled with cotton and sand. Very slowly he reached up a hand and touched his forehead. It was tender but not throbbing. However, right in the middle was an extremely sore and tender spot. Rubbing his brow to the side of the bump in the middle of his forehead, he massaged that area in languid circles, letting memory take its own sweet time in coming back to him. Other than his fingertips, he tried not to move while groggily opening his eyes. He found himself staring at a white ceiling, which didn't tell him diddlysquat. White ceilings were a dime a dozen. He could be anywhere on the planet.

Memory reluctantly came back to him, like a great slow-moving beast. With a groan he recalled the pain of earlier. Gently, softly he stretched out with his mind, listening and taking in his surroundings, he heard the two females in the other room. They were talking about him...at least, he thought they were. He breathed out a small curse as he dropped his mental awareness. That was tender also.

Then it all came back to him in a blinding rush. His brow furrowed at the memory. A tiny spitfire of a nurse was nurturing him back to health. He could die from nursing such as that! _Little twit!_ His lips tightened in a grimace of anger. Then, when they were having a difference of opinion, she slugged him with an anvil! It looked like she won that round, but, he promised himself, that was the last one she would ever win from here on out. His brow cleared as he realized that the pain in his head was fading and he sighed with relief, which disappeared when he saw that he was missing his left arm. Shit! What had happened to him? It took only a quick glance around the sparse room to see that his arm wasn't nearby.

Carefully he levered himself up before scrubbing his face. How long had he been out? Minutes? A swift look over to the window told him that no, it was longer than that for the moons were bright in the sky. When she had laid him out it was still daylight. He would find out but first things first, he needed to get to the bathroom directly, as in right this very minute.

Throwing off the light blanket covering him, he rolled off the bed that was little better than a cot, and pulled himself into a standing position. It was a surprise to find the treacherous floor under his feet lurching until he almost fell forward on his nose. Throwing out an arm he caught himself by slamming a flat palm against the wall to wait until the dizzy spell passed. After that though, things were much more urgent than they were before. He looked up and eyed the distance to the door of the bathroom. It was only several feet away, he should be able to make it; he wasn't one of these weak, ineffectual creatures with their fragile constitutions... He threw himself off from the wall and propelled himself in the direction of the room he was in great need of.

It was difficult but he made it before anything burst. Finally certain things were taken care of and he moved to stand in front of the sink. Placing a hand on the side of the sink, he leaned in closer to get a look at himself in the mirror. The sight that met his eyes was so unexpected that he just barely managed to choke back a shout.

Eyes widened in horror as he stared at the mirror, sagging on his arm for support. After a few ragged breaths, he stood up and lifted his hand with trembling fingers to the mirror as if by touching the reflecting surface in front of him he would know if the man staring back at him in the mirror was truly himself or not.

Eyes of a shocking red hue, the color of blood, gaped back at him in horror. For a few brief seconds, his stunned mind refused to believe that the man he was seeing at in the mirror was indeed himself. He could only stare blindly, unaware of the passage of time, almost forgetting the urgency of his bladder, whether it was seconds, minutes or hours as he studied the reflection there. It wasn't that the color of his eyes was just a solid red. That alone would have been a terrifying change but what made it an unholy fright were the small glowing highlights moving around underneath, like miniscule demonic fireflies skating back and forth just under the surface of his iris.

His trembling hand made contact with the mirror and the irrefutable truth of the situation sank in, it was without a doubt his face he was looking at. Before the touch he could still hold out hope that somehow he was seeing someone else there. After the touch, he let his fingertips slide down the mirror surface, making a squeaking sound as he did so. His head dropped as he stared unseeingly down at the sink.

Then a thought occurred to him. Had the little female done this to him? He gripped the sides of the ceramic sink so hard the knuckles on his hand turned white with the hot anger bubbling up from within. He happened to look up at his eyes in the mirror just then and saw that in his fury, the red was glowing more golden orange. His anger drained in the light of this startling development and as it did, Vash watched the fading of his eyes from red gold to a darker, cooler blood red. His mouth dropped. What the hell....

With a cooler head he realized that a mere human wouldn't have been able to cause this kind of a change in his appearance. It could only have come from the confrontation with his twin!

A hiss escaped through his teeth as he envisioned his brother's neck between his squeezing hands. Knives had done this and he would pay! With a snarl he stared back into his own stranger's face.

His brother! Knives! The enraged golden glow returned to his eyes again and this time stayed as he recalled that battle. The two of them standing opposite each other, both with angel arms pointing glowing ends at each other. He remembered the look in Knives' eyes just before they simultaneously fired upon each other. Superior, smug, arrogant sandflea!

Yet, undeniably something had happened between them, much like in July. An exchange, a mix, and merge and pulling away. It was totally confusing and he couldn't sort out the images left in his brain. What had been him and what had been Knives? And if he was this physically changed, then what did Knives look like? Was he changed too? Were his eyes red also? Vash had to know. He was going to have to track down his brother again. At least this time he had a vague idea of where to look.

Then he noticed something else that was new, and his eyes shot up to lock on the hair of his head. It wasn't the golden blond locks he was used to but every lock, every strand of hair was white! Not white like a human when they became aged, but white like the sparkling diamond sheen of newly fallen snow. White like the glitter and flicker of star shine against a black velvet night.

Tentatively, he reached up, curious. It seemed to glow with an ethereal light from within, just a delicate glow all of its own. His fingers found a strand and began kneading it between his fingers. It was soft, softer than before and that was saying something because his hair, and Knives' had always been silky to the touch to begin with.

Did Knives have white hair also?

He returned to wondering how long he had been out and ran a hand over his smooth face. No beard, no five o'clock shadow, so that wasn't going to be an indication of how long he had been out. Looking down he saw a man's shaving kit to the side of the sink. He reached out and felt the bristles of the brush noting that they were damp.

So, that wasn't going to be an indication since someone was shaving him on a regular basis, however long that was. He rubbed a hand over his cheeks and jaw. She had done a good job though, he couldn't fault her for that. Now, if he could just figure out how long he had been out, he would be less uneasy.

First thought, take care of the urgent problem. After relieving himself, Vash decided what he needed to do was to find his clothes. He walked out of the bathroom without looking at the mirror again. He just couldn't deal with the physical changes at the moment. After he was out of here and in a safe place he would bend his considerable intellect to the problem.

Again, first things first, clothes. Looking down he saw that all he was dressed in was a man's gray flannel pajama pants.

Returning to the bedroom he could tell by the shadows being cast in the room that the moons were at their fullest and brightest so he bent to take a look out the window to the surrounding landscape, but nothing looked familiar, or rather, it all looked familiar. That didn't say much for someone who had wandered all over the damn planet at least once, most places two or three times. Straightening, he stretched out his tight limbs, lifted his arm high until he heard the kinks pop. Releasing his stretch he came down off the balls of his feet and headed for the closet to see if he could find his clothes.

There he pulled on the light bulb chain and looked around the closet and was relieved to see that his sleeveless form-fitting shirt and a pair of jeans were folded neatly on a shelf against the back wall. Next to them were his leather chaps and the armor. His jacket wasn't anywhere in the closet but he noticed another black great coat hanging on a clothes hanger from the rod. He reached out and fingered it, it was good material and looked like it would fit him, and then pulled it off the hanger before tossing it on the cot. Turning back to the closet he noticed that his boots were on the floor and had been recently buffed and polished.

He lifted his clothes to his nose and sniffed, slightly surprised they were clean and smelled freshly laundered; he could also tell they had been patched as well. His eyebrows scaled up at the effort why she had bothered with them. He shrugged, not that it mattered. Snapping off the light, he backed out of the closet with his clothes and rapidly changed, tossing the PJ pants over his shoulder without a backward glance.

Now, he needed his gun and holster, neither of which were in the closet. He had a feeling it the house, somewhere. Undoubtedly the sneaky little dark haired one had taken and hidden it.

Even though he was now wearing his thick-soled boots, not a sound was made as he opened the door and crossed the threshold.

Taking a moment in the long hallway to adjust to the darker illumination there, he quickly took note of the arrangement of the rooms. There was a main bathroom and a couple of closet doors and then three other bedrooms. The doors were open and he could see a ways into each one. Turning his glinting red eyes over to the other closed door in the hallway near the top of the stairs, he silently made for it. There was one room with the door closed and he was guessing that was the room the girls were using as their bedroom.

Placing his hand on the doorknob, he closed his eyes and listened to them murmuring to each other on the other side. It sounded as if they were just getting to bed. He hesitated, waiting until the sounds of their breathing slowed and evened out before slowly turning the knob. Carefully, he pushed spread fingertips against the door so that it swung away from him. He hoped the hinges wouldn't squeak and could have sighed in relief when they didn't.

Letting the door swing wide enough so he could poke his head in Vash gave the room a quick glance but didn't spot the holster with his silver gun anywhere in plain sight. He wondered where Meryl (strange to use her name after all this time) could have hidden them and clenched his jaw muscles in frustration. Tiny women were sneaky.

He threw a narrow glare in her direction, knowing it was her who had taken and hid it. The tall one was much too good-natured and trusting to have thought of that.

Another quick peek told him there wasn't a closet in this room, just a bigger room meant to be the upstairs parlor at one point in time but converted into a bedroom.

Deciding to check the other rooms first he started to back out.

As he was about to draw his head out the little female groaned and rolled over facing him. About to shut the door, an evil grin crossed his lips as an idea came to him.

Making no more noise than a cloud crossing across the sky, he moved to stand beside Meryl's bed before lowering himself to one knee in order to get a better look at her face. Just then the breeze fluttered the curtains, moving them aside for one brief second. The light of the moons fell across her elfin-like, highlighting cheeks, the tip of her nose, and tiny chin causing them to shine with a silvery glow.

As if it had a mind of its own, a gloved finger came up to brush back a strand of hair falling across her eyes. Vash started to lift away the finger and then halted, overcome by some heretofore unknown thing stirring within him. Instead, gently, like a whisper, the fingertip trailed down the velvet of her cheek and froze when a tiny smile crossed her lips in response. His heart constricted at the sight of that soft contented smile. Then with a breathy chuckle she rolled over onto her back and lifted a hand to rub a finger under her nose before letting it drop down across her stomach. He was frozen motionless as a statue. Her lips were still slightly tilted up at the corners as if she were in the middle of a sweet dream.

Again, it was as if something else took control and he leaned forward. Placing a hand next to her pillow, he slid it under a little as he bent over her, until his fingers bumped into something solid and hard, startling him. Curious and wondering what it was, he moved his hand, again slowly and carefully, searching with his fingertips to see what was so important that she felt the need to hide it under her pillow. Questing fingers closed around a very familiar grip. His gun!

Whirling red irises stared down at the female, willing her to roll to the side so he could slide it out from underneath her head. Waiting a few more seconds his shoulders slumped in defeat when she showed no signs of acquiescing, staying right where she was. With patient precision Vash slowly pulled on his gun, taking great care not to disturb her. Smoothly the gun slide out from underneath her pillow.

Raising his weapon into the rays of silvery light and watched as they glinted off the metal causing it to glow silver against the dark of the room. He grinned and then turned his attention back to the woman. With catlike quiet, Vash placed the gun next to him. The holster wasn't under the pillow, he would bet his last donut coupon on it, but it had to be somewhere nearby. He leaned over and lifted the edge of the bed skirt up so he could peer under the bed. There was something there, a barely discernable dark lump. He stretched out his arm and as soon as his fingers grasped it, he knew it was the hostler and belt.

Feeling quite pleased he sat back up, and placed the belt down so he could slide the gun into place before tossing it across his shoulder.

In quite a different mood now, he studied Meryl's face. It was strange. He had been trying to figure out the effect she had on him since the very beginning and had always chalked it up to a case of lust. Not that he was picky about a bedmate but he did tend to gravitate more to the tall, statuesque long-haired types. Yet it was this one, tiny, petite but ever so feisty female he found himself drawn to. Damn, but she was a livewire. Not realizing it, a grin spread across his face. Without a second thought he lowered his head.

Ever so softly and with a gentleness that surprised him, he lowered his lips to hers with a feather light touch. It was a mere graze but it lit an unexpected fire to surge through him. Heat raced through his veins. Suddenly the room felt much too warm but it was a warmth he was familiar with. He pressed in closer and covered more of her mouth, taking his time to savor the flavor of her full and moist lips.

Just as he was ready to press in and deepen the kiss, a soft, warm hand cupped his cheek nearly making him jump back. Instead, controlling his reaction, and without breaking contact, he opened his eyes to see that she had lifted her hand to his face. He looked down and saw barely-opened eyes gazing up at him in sleepy mystification. Her mouth smiled into the kiss making his heart race double-time. He wanted nothing more than to slide his arm under her and scoop her up to crush her to him.

Instead, he slowly and with keenly felt reluctance, lifted his lips from hers and laid his cheek against hers to whisper into her ear, "It's late, go back to sleep, everything is all right." Then, because it was more in line with her personality but making him grin, he whispered softly, "And there are reports due in the morning, you need your sleep."

Almost grumbling, a small pert frown grew between her eyebrows until he reached up and gently with a light touch of his fingertip, soothed it away until she sank into the oblivion of deeper sleep. With a sigh, she finally did roll over onto her side. He continued to sit there until he heard Milly murmuring.

"Oh, no.... Never... satisfied... Need more... Need big one... Smooth... Oh, just like that..."

Vash's white eyebrow went shooting up as he wondered what kind of secrets the tall girl was about to spill in her sleep.

"More Pudding...."

In a move so uncharacteristic of him, the white-haired outlaw clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the chuckle that wanted to escape. His shoulders shook in silent laughter as he tried to control the mirth that wanted to erupt out of him. Milly rolled over in her sleep also, only making slurping noises.

He waited a moment in the dark, letting the silence deepen before standing.

Then, with the first authentic and genuine smile he had known in a very long while slowly fading from his face, Vash took a last look down at the sleeping woman on her bed, before striding in silent steps from the room. With lingering backwards glance at Meryl before he pulled the door shut behind him, the tall, lean gunman promised himself that she would be his one of these days.

**Empty-Nest**

**[Stardate: 11-16-0110-6:00]**

"Sands take that man!" A frustrated and angry Meryl stormed out of the stranger's room and down the stairs.

"What is it now Meryl?" Milly sang out as she leaned over the pot with the oatmeal in it. She gave it a final stir before taking it off the stove and placing it on a hot pad. Then she turned off the burner and wiped a hand over her brow. It was still early morning but it was going to be a scorcher of a day, she could tell that already.

Turning as she heard her partner stomp into the kitchen she asked again, puzzled, "What is it Meryl?"

"He's gone! That ungrateful lowlife! Just like a man, no note to say he was leaving, or even a simple thank you! He found his clothes and his gun..." She paused for a second as the dream from the night before came back to her.

It was vividly with her just before she had opened her eyes that morning, and Meryl could have sworn she could feel the imprint of lips pressed against hers.

Even when her eyes opened to the morning light the echoes of a sensual whisper still tingled where he had spoken into her ear. All through her quick shower and getting dressed for the day, the dream had seemed so real to the point that it made her blush. Of course it couldn't be real, it was just her imagination, yes, that was it, she had been working too hard of late. Maybe what Milly and she needed was to take a short break before they continued with their assignment. Whatever that may be.

Almost convincing herself that it was only a dream, she had gone in to check on the white-haired gunslinger. Expecting him to be unconscious like he had been for the past couple of days she was stunned to see his bed was empty, only the rumpled covers left to show he once occupied that spot. After checking the bathroom to make sure he wasn't in there, but it being so small and once the shower curtain was pulled back, there was no place to hide, then she knew for sure he was gone. However, she didn't let it sink in as a possibility until she checked the whole of the upstairs and in the search out found that his coat and clothes gone. With a foreboding feeling she raced back to her bed and checked under the pillow and the bed. Gone.

Then... she realized with shock, that hadn't been just a dream. He had been in their room to get his gear and...and... If she remembered right, she had cupped his cheek! She reached up a hand and touched her lips with her fingers, eyes going wide and a flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. That pervert! It took a moment for the insight to sink in and then anger overtook her and she began calling him every name she could think of. That was the second kiss he had stolen! If she ever saw him again she would kick him so hard in that space between the kneecaps he would be crawling for a week of Sundays!

Coming back to herself she noticed Milly looking at her patiently.

"He, um... he found his clothes and gun."

"Oh, don't you keep them under your pillow and bed?"

"NOT IMPORTANT!" Insisted Meryl, "But he may be a menace to society. We don't know where he is planning on going but obviously, he is still dangerous. The least we need to do is report him to the company as a potential threat and also warn the sheriff."

Milly gave one of her secret smiles and Meryl knew she was in trouble.

"Gee Meryl, you mean you don't realize why he is so dangerous.... to you?" She turned and began ladling the oatmeal into two separate bowls.

"What are you talking about Milly?" Automatically she sat down when Milly placed their bowls on the table. Reaching for the milk first and poured it over her oatmeal before passing it back to Milly. Without thinking, she picked up the brown sugar. In her state of mind she hardly noticed as she sprinkled the sugar over the cereal, her eyes were riveted on her partner waiting to hear what she had to say.

"Boy Meryl, you sure can be slow sometimes."

"Thanks, I appreciate the feedback." She said, grinding her teeth. "Now spill it, what are you talking about?"

"Why do you think he has been following us around? Gee Meryl, didn't you notice he was following you around? And really, some of those times he used the sad excuse of trying to find Knives? Even if he wouldn't admit it to himself, it was because of you."

Meryl dropped her spoon, the room was spinning and she was going to pass out, she was pretty sure of that. Clutching the edge of the table to keep upright she managed to gasp out finally, "Wha.. wha... What?!"

Milly narrowed her eyes in suspicious thought, clasping her chin in one hand, elbow propped up on the table next to her bowl. She stirred a large clump of brown sugar into her bowl with amusement. "Didn't it ever occur to you? And you are supposed to be the _smart_ one!"

Meryl's voice rose in incredulous accusation as she gasped out, "I am sure you are quite mistaken!"

Milly's wide sky blue eyes went wider than normal as she answered, "I thought you knew Meryl! Honest, I really didn't know you didn't until just now." Looking up at her partner with those huge eyes she went on, "You always have a plan Meryl, so I figured you were going to trap him in some clever scheme. Also, he hasn't been awake much for you to question him. I thought you were waiting and then turn the screws on him to make him talk." Milly nodded with a slight frown. "You have a way of handling people Meryl." She added, her voice filled with admiration.

Meryl groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

"We can go look for him Meryl." Milly merrily added, "I could shoot him for you."

Meryl could only shake her head and say wearily, "We have to go after him of course, but not," and here she looked up sternly, "so you can shoot him!"

"Well of course! And not to shoot him", she agreed cheerfully, "but to go after him." Then her face clouded over and she shot a doubtful look to her partner.

"But, uh Meryl, why are we going after him? Isn't he still dangerous? Shouldn't we be looking for Mr. Knives and..." Milly trailed off, thinking about the still lost men with longing.

Meryl gave in to her mood and planted her chin on the table in front of her, and in a near-groan said, "That's what we do, chase after Vash the Stampede. It's our job..." This time she did groan before adding, "And it's gotten to be a habit now."

Milly tilted her head and then, in her a sage-like attitude, informed the despondent agent, "Well, I don't think there are any Twelve-step programs for love Meryl."

"Oh God, come and take me now!" Meryl breathed as she squeezed her eyes shut.


	30. CH 29 Talking to Oneself

_We're back on track for another chapter! It's a bit of a traveling chapter, and even though I'm not a fan of filler, our group needs to get to where they're going and Vash is having a bit of a mental breakdown, so it's kind of fun to watch the journey. Hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you for all of the reviews and also all of the emails encouraging us to keep writing! This chapter is for you! MillyT_

_We do no own or operate Trigun or any of its franchises. And yes, we are very sad about it, please don't tease us, we are very sensitive._

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**Chapter 29**

**Talking to Oneself**

**[Stardate: 11-16-0110-6:00]**

It was only minutes past the sunrise and the day was already hot, stifling hot, which was no surprise of course, especially for the man struggling to rise to the top of a small dune. He had been trudging across the wastes trying to take advantage of any lingering coolness of the night before the parent sun topped the horizon. It didn't take long for any coolness to dissipate in the desert.

With a grunt, the lone man in black stopped at the top of the dune, lifting his right hand to shade his eyes. Tilting back his head, his gaze followed the endless blue sky from horizon to horizon as it stretched taut above him like a tent canopy. It was indeed hot, as in blast furnace hot. Like yesterday, like tomorrow would be, and all the tomorrows following after that as well. It was enough to make him wonder what kept the humans from wilting and dying like some hothouse flowers? Without his notice, respect for this tenacious species nudged up a notch but it was quickly forgotten as another wave of heat washed over him causing him to groan and drop his hand. Lowering his head, he started off again, placing one weary foot in front of the other while trying to ignore the heat and the way it was affecting him.

Mentally, he kicked himself yet again, regretting that he left the house where he had been treated like royalty. Was there any reason he couldn't have stayed just bit longer? Sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades, the ticking sensation making them twitch. Was it so horrible to be nestled between clean, comfy sheets, with a plump pillow under his head, while being waited on hand and foot by two women that left behind them the delicate, lingering scent of...Wait a minute. What was he going on about? What was happening here? Enough of this. The gunman shook his head trying to divert the direction where his thoughts were headed.

He stumbled again and cursed. He halted and glared at the ground at his feet. How the hell does someone trip over sand? He looked out over the blasted desert, the sand, the rocks, and the occasional six-legged lizard that hid cowering from the heat under a rock. He took a moment to sort over the anomalies since the... _Incident_. The worst thing to come of it was the loss of his left arm, and that, he supposed, was the reason for the stumbling; he was used to counterbalancing for a very heavy left arm, and now that it was gone he had to re-train himself to walk straight. A low growl rumbled up his throat as he recalled the clash with his brother. He didn't want to think about Knives, that subject just made his head hurt worse than it already did. With that, he wrenched his thoughts to the oddities of late and concentrated on those instead.

Oddities. What a nice way to phrase it. Whatever one called them, they were starting to add up to an unwelcome list of anomalies. Along with that was a small buzzing noise in his hindbrain that was getting louder each day. It wasn't like dull hum of communication between his sisters when close to a town fortunate enough to own a Plant facility. No, this was like a pressure building beneath a volcano and he wouldn't be surprised to find it erupting soon. It was irritating and uncomfortable, yet familiar. He shook his head again, trying to dislodge the persistent drone that was an unwanted, unnerving guest in his mind.

His lips turned down as he catalogued the changes. The first and most important to him at the moment was his arm, it wasn't a matter of getting it fixed this time, he had to completely get it replaced. And the last time he saw the Doc... Well, he very much doubted the Doctor would be very willing to replace it without a lot of convincing. On top of that there was a throbbing in his chest which was foreign and unpleasant. What had Knives done to him? Before this, things had been clear, kill humans that got in his way, pleasure found in a dalliance with a girl if he felt like it, drink when he wanted, and go wherever the hell he pleased. Now he just wanted to get away from it all. A surge of anger went through him. What in the world was going on? What was different now that the town of Jeneora was destroyed? Where was Knives anyway?

"Bastard! He did it on purpose," he muttered through clenched teeth. First Knives takes his real arm, now he takes his fake one, then screws up his entire plan to get the world to himself; okay, himself and a few choice ladies, but still, that too was completely screwed up now too.

With a sigh, Vash continued to walk. He had to get his arm replaced before he fought with Knives again. That would be the only way they could be on equal standing again. If Knives weren't dead already that is. So now he was forced to travel to see the Doc, that little fake midget of a human. He growled in anger. The last time the Doc had fixed his arm had been years ago, before July, before... everything. Regrettably, the little man was the epitome of an honorable and moral man. Vash was sure he couldn't just waltz into the Doc's home and expect him to willingly fix his arm. Only one person, an uncooperative doctor could produce a new arm for him, then there was the pain of having it attached, it was a headache waiting to happen. Trying to think concrete thoughts was getting more difficult, but he forced himself to go over the plan again. First, he needed to return _home_ and find the Doc. Vash rubbed the middle of his forehead with his fingers. So many complications, on top of which, the oddest sensations were coursing through his body unsettling his usual overconfident calm.

Suddenly, and unexpectedly, the anger bled out of him and he sighed softly. Of all manner of things to go wrong, why were his problems the most outlandish and bizarre? For one thing, sticky liquid was forming all over his body and he didn't like it, not one bit. It was a common affliction, for a human, except for one tiny little fact, he was a _Plant_, not a freaking _human_! Real sweat, it was running down him in rivers. Sweating was not something he did, at least not from heat. Raising his hand, he ran it through his soggy, drooping locks. Sweating. He grimaced. How could the humans stand this?

With a humorless laugh he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. Was he actually starting to feel pity for that pathetic race?

"_Well, that certainly is a welcome change!"_

Vash swore, gun appearing almost instantaneously in his hand as he spun in place looking for where the voice was coming from.

_"Try again there, genius. You don't have to look very far."_

His eyes scanned the area around him, but he knew even as he did so that he was alone. Whoever it was couldn't be very far as the voice sounded like the person was speaking right next to him.

Lips curling up in a snarl, hefting the long colt so it was half-raised, the tall, slender man turned in place again, searching for the owner of the voice.

_"Uh, that would be me."_

"Where are you? Come out!" _And die_. He thought as he narrowed his eyes in anger. Where the speaker would appear from was a mystery as there wasn't anything to hide behind for miles around.

Feeling a tad foolish, he turned again, trying to watch everything around him at once. Yes indeed, if he couldn't spot the person he was a first-class idiot.

_"Well, we are both in agreement on that one."_

"Damnit! Who said that?" He shifted his grip on his gun, holding it higher, ready to shoot.

_"You know, it wouldn't kill you to try and use a little courtesy now and then." _

Grinding his teeth at the cheerful mocking tone of the answer, Vash squinted at the heat waves in the distance. He was the only soul around. He could feel that even as his eyes confirmed what he already knew.

_"Never mind, forgot who I was talking to."_

Dropping his hand holding the silver colt down to his side he used the butt of the gun to open the fold of his coat exposing the holster, but didn't slide the gun back in yet as he was unsettled by the voice. The plant known as the Stampede waited for a moment, tipping his head and listening warily. All that could be heard was the silence that hovers over the deep places of the desert. He was alone.

Sliding his gun back home, a hiss speared through his teeth. He didn't like this, not one bit. "Geez, what a time to go looney in the head." He complained aloud to the empty sky. There was more on his mind to say, but even his words felt empty at the moment.

He was having a bad day. No doubt about it.

There was nothing he could do about it now though. He ignored the fact that a disembodied voice spoke to him and thought about the other things that had happened to him recently. Mentally, he ticked them off in his head. Since first waking up, with a migraine that would have killed a sandworm, he had looked into the mirror to discover red eyes and silver-white hair. He snorted as he thought of all the times he experimented with disguises only to find that none of them worked too well on him. And now, he was afflicted with a _disguise_ that would make it impossible to blend in anywhere! He groaned at the thought of having to wear contacts again, or glue a pair of sunglasses to the bridge of his nose to hide the red of his eyes.

He was sweating. It was an annoyance that couldn't be whined about enough, but it was steadily becoming the little thing that would drive him over the edge with madness! It was sticky and uncomfortable and to make matters worse, it reeked which made him an offense to his own nostrils.

Then there was the fact that his superior stamina cut out on him at odd times, leaving him feeling weak and helpless as a day-old kitten. And now a '_voice_' was speaking to him; one with an attitude no less. A niggling thought tried to worm its way to the front of his mind that told him that he should pay attention to the voice, but he quickly disregarded that notion.

"Stupid, this whole thing is stupid!" He muttered and was startled at how hoarse his voice was getting. He cleared his throat and said defiantly, "I am not crazy."

_"Never said you were."_

"Stop that! Whoever you are I don't need your opinions! Just leave me the hell alone."

_"A little out of sorts I see; we'll talk later."_

"NO. WE. WILL. NOT." Vash emphasized and then waited. Nothing.

Feeling a tickling sensation on his brow, he wiped away the sweat with the back of his wrist. Now that he was aware of it again, he could feel rivulets running down his sides as well as his legs and back. This sweating business was starting to make him believe in the devil or at the very least, it was the ninth ring of hell!

Vash began walking again and wished he could turn off his brain. His body was in a state of flux and it was obvious that he wasn't in control of what it would do next. A thread of fear undergirded his thoughts but he refused to let himself dwell on the emotion, rather, he started over the list again that was slowly being added to daily. He began whispering them out like a mantra, 'Silver-white hair. Red eyes. On and off again strength and speed, missing arm, unstable gate in the other, unreliable stamina... and now... voices.' A thunderous frown formed as rage gathered across his face. This was his brother's fault and oh, would he pay! Yet once more Knives was responsible for bringing about changes in his body and he was clueless as to what they were.

He lengthened the strides of his long lean legs until soon the ground was flashing by beneath him. Better to use his strength and speed while he had it and get to the nearest town, hopefully one that had a facility angel or two. He would need their help if he wanted to get to his intended destination. All he needed was a little extra power and he would be right as rain.

_"Are you so sure about that? And isn't this interesting, 'right as rain'. You used one of Rem's expressions."_

"Shut up!" Vash snarled, quickening his steps. No thinking! He huffed to himself, he just wouldn't allow himself to think. It did no good to remember. It was a waste of time and energy. He would not remember the early days; no one could make him remember... Rem's days. He broke out into a run.

_"You can't run away. Not anymore. Not from me."_

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

_"You are alone. But worse, you are also lost."_

Upon hearing those words it was as if a lock snapped open someplace deep within him. Images flooded through his mind so fast that not even he could comprehend them, but one thing he knew, they were painful and he had no control over them.

Stumbling to a stop, Vash dropped to his knees, threw his head back, his spine arching as he screamed his desperation into the blue sky, filling it for that brief moment of time with the overwhelming grief and anguish ripping through him. Once it came to an end he was taken by surprise when another scream ruptured out the depths, and then next one after that. One after another, like birthing pains tearing through him, one wave followed on the heels of another. Relentless, without mercy or care, they were wrenched from him until he was digging his fingers into the sides of his silver head while tears streamed down his face unnoticed. A nameless and ancient sorrow threatened to devour him, ripping through his mind and soul with abandon. He couldn't stand before it as it swelled into a thunderhead only to explode out his throat time and time again. Vash barely had time to wonder if he was losing his mind, as sanity became that one brief pant of air allowed him before another scream tore from his raw throat time and again.

Finally though, the last one left his lips without another following after. The racing of his heart and harsh pants were the only sounds heard until they too died away. He collapsed onto the ground, falling into darkness as consciousness fled away.

* * *

**Insurance Girls' Decision**

**[Stardate: 11-16-0110-12:00]**

"Gee Meryl, what are we going to do now that Mr. Vash gave us the slip?" Milly asked cautiously as she watched her partner with concern. However that didn't stop her from shoving her BLT into her mouth to take a bite. Despite the fact that Milly had made lunch, a good one even if she did say so herself, Meryl didn't acknowledge the plate sitting in front of her, instead she kept muttering the same refrain that went something like this, "No one uses me... Gone is he now, well we'll see about that! I won't be taken advantage of. He is the scum growing at the bottom of a toma trough!" One cheek was cupped by a palm propped up on the table as angry eyes stared off into the distance while an index finger tapped on the table top.

Actually, it took Milly quite awhile to figure out Meryl's rambling and put it together into a coherent sentence. Uncharacteristically, the blue-eyed blond snapped. This was so unlike Meryl and frankly, it was starting to scare her a little. Dropping her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter, she stood up and leaned over the table and snatched Meryl by the wrist. "Meryl, are you in there?" She gave it a slight shake to get her friend's attention before letting go. At long last, those gray eyes turned toward her even if slightly cloudy and dull looking.

Straightening in her seat, she dropped her hand from her cheek and said, "Huh? Oh, Milly. I have been waiting for you. When did you come down?" She didn't notice Milly's roll of the eyes at her statement. "But it's good you are down here, it's lunch time already. The best time to make decisions and plans for the future is on a full stomach. The first order of business, though, is to have lunch and a cold glass of lemonade. After _that_, we can decide what options we shall pursue." Meryl placed both hands on the tabletop and pushed off from her seat, when she noticed Milly's expression and halted. "What?" She asked, confused.

Milly gave Meryl her biggest smile and then let her eyes drop down to the spot in front of Meryl. Meryl followed her gaze and found herself staring at a full plate, a BLT, some grapes and potato chips.

Giving a weak laugh, she asked, "How long has this been here?"

Milly resisted the temptation to say, 'Days upon days,' but knowing her responsible, duty-bound friend, she would castigate herself for hours thinking she was being less than her usual efficient self. Feeling merciful, Milly replied with a cheeky grin, "Just a few minutes really." Seeing Meryl's face starting to turn pink she giggled, "Meryl, the food is still hot, you weren't woof-gathering long. Would you be wanting your lemonade, or should I get you coffee?"

"Wool, Milly." Meryl corrected absently as she rubbed a hand over her eyes.

"Oh," Milly tipped her head, eyes scrunched considering before smoothing out to say, "Okay then. Wool you be wanting your coffee now?"

Meryl sighed before answering emphatically, "Yes, please!" She needed at least a couple of cups before she could deal with Milly's malapropisms so early in the morning. Wait, lunchtime, how did it get to be so late already? However, it didn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. Good old Milly.

For her part, Milly was just glad to see Meryl laughing and returning to her old self. Smiling with relief the blond walked over to the miniature coffee maker and poured Meryl a cup of her favorite beverage. No, she took that back, it wasn't just a morning routine to the little insurance agent. It was the essential sustenance that helped her cope all day. Milly tipped her head as she tried to remember one of the many of Meryl's comments on life and coffee. There were many of them. That was one thing about Meryl, she had plenty of opinions and wasn't adverse in sharing them with anyone.

The tall woman's face brightened as she stirred in a couple of spoonfuls of sugar as Meryl's saying came back to her, "Coffee is the divine beverage Milly. It's a gift from above to help us persevere through the hard times and reward us in the good. In short, it is the bean of life that keeps sanity sane and life worth living. And never forget, it is what separates us from the barbarians at the gates." Milly was a little confused about the whole 'barbarians at the gates' thing, but just shrugged it off as one of Meryl's little sayings. After all, she did read a great deal although, thought Milly darkly, reflecting back on the trashy novels she was forced to read, it certainly wasn't from any of _those _books. She looked down at the beverage, before stirring in just a dollop of cream. With a congratulatory nod to herself she looked at the final concoction. Perfect! She would like to see the barbers at the gates do any better.

Crossing the floor, she arrived at Meryl's side and set down the mug of coffee, inhaling deeply of the delicious scent. If only coffee could taste like it smelled, mourned Milly, then she too would be a devoted convert. Lemonade was much better for lunch. Maybe orange juice for breakfast. A bubbly soda for dinner... She paused for a moment to watch as Meryl absently reached for the mug and lifted it to take a sip before returning to her side of the table and sitting.

That was good. For the first time that morning the annoying tic twitching underneath Meryl's eye was starting to fade. Seeing Milly sit back down and reach for a grape, Meryl reached for her napkin and unfolded it over her lap before picking up her own sandwich and taking a bite. Fantastic! If there was one food that Milly excelled at making, it was BLTs.

"This is absolutely delicious Milly! My stomach has died and gone to heaven!"

Milly's return smile crinkled up her eyes as she beamed at Meryl. "Thanks! That's my Momma's great-grandmother's secret BLT recipe!" Meryl just nodded, knowing that Milly would say that as she did every time when complimented on her sandwiches. The secret really was to have fresh tomatoes and bacon so crisp it was almost burnt, all between two buttered and mayo slathered pieces of bread.

Both women tucked into their food, putting most of it away before trying to start a serious conversation about what the next step would be. There was a little burp from the other side of the table and Milly looked up with eyes sparkling with amusement.

With a rising blush, Meryl covered her mouth with slender fingertips, "Sorry," she muttered embarrassed.

Milly waved a hand, laughing, "Oh Meryl, I have heard much worse than that! You forget I come from a large family with brothers whose idea of a witty joke is to say, 'Pull my finger.'".

Meryl wrinkled her nose but then joined by chuckling even as she felt a warm fondness come over her for her taller friend. Milly was a treasure, no one had ever been able to perk Meryl up like she could and it wasn't ever anything really deep or wise that was being said. Milly's ability to lift the spirits of those she cared about feel good was unsurpassed.

"So Meryl," asked Milly when she set her lemonade down, "What are we going to do?"

To Milly's surprise Meryl suddenly catapulted out of her chair and shook a raised fist. For the first time that morning her eyes were sparkling with emotion. "We have a job we were entrusted with and we shall not fail! We will find that no-good, low-down, snake-rat and finish what we started out to do, curtail his destructive tendencies!"

At a non-descript noise coming from the other side of the table, Meryl lowered her gaze to find her friend's wide blue eyes fastened on her. Realizing that she must look a little ridiculous, even a little manic, she gave an embarrassed chuckled and hastily sat back down. To her surprise Milly laughed and leapt to her feet too, waving a fist around over her head in fair imitation of Meryl.

"Yay Meryl! Let's go get him and curtail his stampeding ass right now!" Now that she knew that the gent who was sweet on Meryl was the real Vash the Stampede, she was thrilled and excited. Love was in the air... Well, after Meryl beat the crap out of him first. THEN, love was in the air.

Now it was Meryl's turn to look surprised. Rarely did Milly use such language although she knew the blond was not naive, how could one be with that many siblings and family?

"Ummm, yes, that's the spirit Milly... I think." Meryl gave a shake of her head that sent her raven locks dancing lightly across her brow before saying, "But first let's clean up from lunch and then pack. I'll tell you my idea once we are on our way."

"Right!" Milly dashed out the kitchen door and Meryl smiled at her friend's retreating back. She would clean up the kitchen while Milly packed.

"All set!" The blond said, returning seconds later, even before Meryl had stacked the plates. "You've been out of it for so long that I got us completely packed, the toma are ready and I even told the landlord that we'll drop off the key in little while." She smiled, setting down the last two bags next to her friend. "I think this is all of it, but you might want to take a last minute look just in case."

Meryl looked over her friend a bit wide-eyed. "But we aren't even sure which direction to go... I think we need to go ask around first..."

Milly smiled, "Took care of that already too. Asked around and the farmer at the edge of town said he saw something that looked kind of like a ghost last night take off over his farm. Said it looked like a silver ball floating out over his crops headed North."

"Well then, I guess you really _do_ have it all covered then." Meryl was impressed, although a bit frazzled by the fact that her partner had become so take-charge all of a sudden. "Let me finish washing up then and we'll be on our way."

"Okay Meryl." The tall insurance girl said with a smile. She was also looking forward to finding _her_ men... in fact, he had heard word someone fitting their description had come through here recently as well, headed in the same direction. It made her giddy with anticipation, but she didn't tell Meryl that.

* * *

**Not Quite Dead**

**[Stardate: 11-20-0110-14:00]**

Jackson Smith Jones, (or Jake to his friends) looked over his shoulder at the black lump stretched out in his back seat and heaved a sigh. It was a day for interventions, beginnings even, if one should so choose. He had come across the collapsed man and it was evident that he had been under the suns for days. Driving along, he had seen an odd color conspicuous against the color of the desert that obviously didn't belong. At first it was just a mere speck on the horizon. Seeing it, he steered toward it, curious but also cautious. Stopping his truck, he had hopped out and walked toward the unconscious man, for that was what it was. It was a man, on his lonesome, out in the middle of the worst part of the desert traveling without any equipment for survival. Only a fool or a man with a death wish would travel like that without provisions, or a toma or vehicle of some kind.

Squatting down next to the collapsed stranger wearing a long black coat, his eyes traveled the man's long frame wondering about the attire and the unusual silver-white hair. He lifted a finger to reach under the bandana covering most of his own dark hair and absently scratched. Then, as he contemplated the unconscious man before him, he rubbed the bristle on his cheek as he said, "Well now. This is not what I was expecting, but might as well start now, good a time as any."

A sympathetic look crossed his face for a flash of a second before his light-colored eyes became hooded and expression blank. He reached out and pulled on the arm so that the prone man rolled onto his back. Jake studied the burned skin of the face, the pallor that lay underneath, and the dark circles under his eyes. If the man wasn't dead, he was doing a fair imitation.

"Hey, Mister." Jake reached out and poked at the man's chest. There was no response. He tried again, "Hey there buddy, you dead?" His eyes wandered over the horizontal form of the man noting one arm was missing. Shrugging off that disturbing fact, he then noticed a faint rise of the chest. He smiled at the evidence of life and felt relief wash through him. Then he realized that he would either have to carry the man to the truck or drag him there. Jake studied him. He was a skinny feller, but Jake knew the man was not going to be easy to lift and carry.

"Good thing for you I am such a nice guy." He reached under the ailing man, and grunted as he began lifting. "Ah good Lord above but you could stand to lay off the sweets!"

As he slowly carried the man back to the truck he heard whisperings from the cracked, parched lips that sounded like, "Le' gato, brother, rem, knives..." and one particular longer phrase that made no sense whatsoever, "Eyes like twilight..."

Once he heaved the practically lifeless stranger into the back seat, arms and legs sprawling everywhere, he took a moment to look him over while he caught his breath. The fool of a traveler was certainly looking flushed from too much sun but hopefully should recover. Jake had seen much worse in his journeys.

Hopping into the rust-bucket of a truck he had christened 'Betsy', Jake started her up, waiting patiently for the rattling and sputtering to die down. Jake wasn't worried. He was intimately acquainted with every sound Betsy made and knew this was just a mild grumble compared to what she was capable of doing when truly upset. With a held breath, Jake depressed the clutch, shifted, and then waited for a moment before slowly releasing the clutch pedal and they started off. Betsy was a mite temperamental but started up admirably. Nothing wrong with his baby. He reached out a hand and patted her console affectionately until a tire hit a bump. It launched him into the air only to land on that one broken, sharp spring in the cushion beneath him.

He growled out, "Right auld pisser of a cow! Ya did that intentionally!"

He cast another look into the back seat when he heard a groan at being tossed about. However, the stranger didn't wake from his unconscious state.

Jake returned his eyes to watch the scenery, not that it would have made much of a difference. He wasn't following any road or trail except the one that led him to this man.

Vash woke to a pounding headache and to the fact that he was on his back being jostled and jounced around. Confused, he opened his eyes and with a swift glance around, immediately took in his surroundings. It was pretty obvious that he was in the backseat of a large four-door truck cab. He promptly laid his one arm across his eyes as he hastily processed information. Peeking out from under the crook of his arm he noted that the man driving obviously meant him no harm or Vash would have woken up dead already. Not a healthy way to start the morning. With his mouth set in a grim line, he reached down and pulled out his sunglasses and slipped them on his face. Once they covered his eyes he pushed himself upright on his seat.

Vash quietly observed his situation. His opinion of the dark-haired man went up a notch when he didn't try and overwhelm his passenger with nosy, unwanted questions.

The gunman didn't rush to fill the silence as he studied the face of the young man in the rearview mirror. The man met his eyes and then gave him a slight lift of the lips and nod in greeting. Vash noted the red bandana that couldn't quite hold black strands of the man's hair from poking out from underneath it. Also, from the looks of his dark tan, the gunman deduced that his rescuer was no stranger to the sun. He looked back to the mirror and saw the good humor evident in the man's light-blue eyes.

With a widening smile, he informed his passenger, "Howdy. Found you baking and didn't think you were intentional-like in planning to die that way. There's a canteen on the floor by your feet. Help yourself."

"Uhhh, thanks. You certainly saved me from a rather unpleasant end." Vash leaned over and grabbed the canteen. Twisting off the top he promptly raised it to his mouth and took greedy gulps.

"Careful, don't want to make yourself sick."

"Right." Vash knew how to survive in the desert, in fact, probably better than any human, but it was hard to stop and pace himself when every fiber of his being demanded he drink until the canteen was drained dry.

"Yeah, you could have died out there buddy. Ain't no good way to pass on to the next life you know."

However, Vash wasn't sure if he would have died or if his body would have changed into something else. That was just one of the mysteries of being a plant. What exactly that 'something else' could be was beyond him though.

"Is there a good way?" Vash lifted an eyebrow, wondering what his rescuer's name was.

"Course there is!" He shook his head at Vash's attitude as if chiding a small child. "However, bet you are wondering the name of the fellow giving you a ride, right?"

Was he a mind-reader? Vash replied, "Crossed my mind once or twice."

"Well, wonder no longer. The names Jones. Jackson Smith Jones. At your service. You may call me Jake though."

Vash stared at the side of the man's face. It had been a while since someone acted this polite in the Outer. He frowned slightly. Something was ringing in the back of his mind, something nagging for his attention but he brushed it off as a one would an irritating gnat.

"You weren't raised out here, were you?" It was almost too personal a question for these parts. One learned quickly to not ask about another's past if a man wanted to stay alive for long. "Sorry." Hang on, did he just apologize? To a human? Where did that come from? Shocked, Vash's mouth sagged open a bit as realization of what he had just said sank in.

"Nah, it's o'kay. I was born and raised in July."

Vash's eyes snapped up to fix again on the side of the man's face. Now that he mentioned it, the younger man did have that peculiar accent that was typical of folk hailing from the region of July. It had been a long time since he had last heard the distinctive inflection of that city. He felt an icy hand close around his heart and squeeze.

"I know, I know, _**Lost**_July. Weren't _**lost **_back then though. Just a normal place where average folk worked and raised their family."

"Did you..." Vash paused and then was unsure if he should ask how the man was spared. Obviously some venture had taken him out of the city when it was destroyed. The cold was pushing outward from the center of his chest, chilling his veins. How could he suddenly be so cold when shortly before he was being fried in the desert? He asked in a thick voice, "Did you lose family there?"

The pause wasn't long but for the Humanoid Typhoon it was an eternity stretching in both directions.

The answer was slow in coming. "Aye."

The coiled spring in his chest tightened. What was going on here? Why was he feeling this way? Why was he _feeling_...at all?

"Lost everything there," Jake said softly, more to himself then to his passenger.

Vash could hardly bring himself to ask as the words wanted to stick in his dry throat. "What about... what about the one who caused it?"

Vash saw the man's light eyes glance up at him in the mirror for a second before dropping back to the landscape. "Let's call it what it was mister, it was destroyed, razed to the ground with not a hardly a single person left alive. And as for what caused it, everybody knows that it were Vash the Stampede." Despite the accusation, there was only a hint of emotion in the Jake's voice that the gunman couldn't place. It wasn't anger, blame, nor was it a deep sorrow.

"Yeah," Vash winced while replying quietly. He pushed the glasses up his nose and held his breath, wanting to hear the answer but dreading it at the same time.

"Oh, don't much matter now."

"HUH? What! How can you say that?" Vash was shocked to his core, and that didn't happen very often. No one had ever said anything even remotely close to those words in all the years since the deed was done, not even the more forgiving of folk he had come across. This was a big first. He lifted the canteen to his lips again and took a large swallow, desperately wishing it was whiskey instead of water. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth he demanded, "Haven't you heard? The general opinion is that he's the devil's helper."

Chuckling, the younger man lifted his eyes to the rearview mirror to catch Vash's eye. "Oh, as if the evil one needed any help! If you be thinking I'm out for revenge, well punishment ain't my concern these days. I got a callin' to bigger, better things that be needing my attention."

"You must be freshly released from a mental hospital."

Jake let out a sudden peal of laughter, "Well, part of that is right, but don't worry, I'm in my right mind."

"That's what all the loonies say," muttered Vash to himself.

However Jake overhead and laughed again. "No worries mate, I am as sane as you."

"At this point in time, that's not saying much for you." Vash took another swig before wiping his mouth on his sleeve this time. "Anything else?"

Jake paused before going on, "Well, I knew him once upon a time."

Vash stiffened and he could feel a shiver go down his spine. He warily eyed the young man. He certainly didn't ever remember meeting this person before.

"When?"

"Before July. Before they say he went sandshit in the head."

"I never... He never..." Caught off guard, Vash sputtered indignantly before stopping and berated himself for nearly giving his real identity away, if he hadn't already. He lied smoothly, "I never met him, but I always heard he was evil incarnate. Or so folks say." There, he was on good footing with that comment. No one ever disagreed with that statement and in fact, it was enough to treat him to a drink if he were in the right bar with the right crowd.

"Yep. That's what folks say. Folks what don't know him anyway," Jake flashed a grin at him, "But you should know better by now than to go by what other folks say. Me, I been thinking that some such has warped him powerful bad since I knew him."

Vash went cold. _Knew him_? How did this man know Vash the Stampede? He eyed the youth guardedly through lowered lids.

Jake continued on without noticing the suspicious stare he was getting, "Were back before the handle; no 'Stampede' hung on him then. He was just a scrawny, goofy guy who played with us kids."

The sudden pounding of his heart beat in time with a steady throbbing in his brain as if pressure was beginning to increase there. He reached up and massaged a temple with the tips of a couple of fingers as his gaze rested on the back of the man's head.

"Yeah, but time has a way about her of changing folks ya know."

"So I've heard." Unbidden, a scene jumped in front of his mind's eye. A gang of young boys crowded around him, tugging on his red coat, demanding that he play with them. The clothes were of a fashion from years earlier. One young boy with a head of wild wheat-colored hair glared up at him with frowning eyes and said, 'C'mon Vash, you promised.' He heard the echo ringing, 'You promised,... you promised... you promised..." in his ears until the man sent him a sharp glance and asked, "Hey, you okay there? I can pull over if you need to puke."

"No, no I am doing just fine, thanks for asking." Oh, and now he was being polite in return. What was wrong with him, and why were his hands shaking?

_"Maybe the tin man is growing a heart."_

Knowing better than to speak out loud, a disgruntled expression formed on his face as he heard the voice speaking to him. He answered in his thoughts, _"You again! I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone."_

_"No can do Sunshine! We have a date with destiny!"_

Now Vash did groan out loud and Jackson sent him a searching look.

"You're looking a little green around the gills there mister. Sure you don't need me to stop so you can heave-ho?"

"NO!" Vash waved a hand, "I mean, no, just thinking about things." How asinine was that? One hundred and fifty years old and he couldn't think of a better excuse than the average six-year-old.

_"About time you paid attention to me!"_

_Not for lack of trying. _Vash's shoulders slumped in defeat. It was true, he had gone completely sandshit in the head and there was nothing he could do about it. To top it all off, he now had his own personal _voice _in his head to make his life especially miserable. Wasn't he special!

"Say, forgot to ask, what's your name?"

Mouth open to respond with his true name, Vash stopped himself, swallowed hard and then replied, "Eriks. Eriks Remsson."

"Well, pleased to meet you Eriks Remsson!"

"Yeah, pleasure's all mine," Vash retorted shortly as he leaned back in his seat. The headache was getting worse and he felt sick to his stomach. Maybe he was going through alcohol withdrawal.

"Do they have a saloon in this town you are going to?"

"Don't all map dots in the Outer 'ave 'em?" Not hearing a reply he cast a glance into his mirror and saw Eriks' face getting whiter by the second. "Hey, c'mon, there's no shame in being sick, but please don't puke in my truck!" Not hearing a sound from the back, he glanced again and saw that the man he had rescued had fallen asleep.

"Good, he's gonna need all the rest he can get. It's a hard road ahead with an ill-wind following."

* * *

**The Hunt Continues**

**[Stardate: 11-22-0110-15:00]**

"Well, now at least we know what direction he went in. He sure is an arrogant twit. Didn't he give thought to the fact that a tall skinny man, dressed in a long black coat, with spiky silver-white hair, riding in the back of a truck wouldn't be noticed? Not to mention that oh-so-genial personality of his."

Meryl tapped a fingernail against her chin in thought, "I notice no one mentioned the eyes though. Wonder if he was covering them up." Then with a scary gleam in her eye partnered with a clutching fist in front of her, she gritted out, "Well, no matter, we have his scent now!"

Milly didn't bother to answer Meryl. By now she knew when the dark-haired agent expected a reply to her ravings... er, opinions. Instead, she nudged her toma to keep up with Meryl's. As for herself, she was feeling a little disappointed. Meryl told her about Mr. Maybe-It's-Vash-Maybe-It's-Not waking up with the red eyes and she didn't get to see them! Were they red like the eyes of her big little brother's pet rat? Were they blood red like a vampire? She tapped her chin with a finger, eyes half-lowered as she imagined different shades of crimson. Or maybe they were the burgundy color of dark roses. That would be pretty.

Meryl pulled out the map and unfolded it. It wasn't easy to read when her ride was rocking back and forth underneath her in an awkward gait, but by now she was starting to get used to it.

Sticking out the tip of her tongue, she traced her finger across the vacant spaces on the map. From the several towns and way stations they had stopped at, she was able to piece together the trail of the infamous man. (Plant! It was still hard to get used to that bit of news!) The devious and clever outlaw was weaving a complicated and twisted path... To absolutely nowhere!

"Dammit!" fumed Meryl, giving the map a good shake. "It's like he's peddling as fast as he can go to get nowhere fast!" She lifted a hand and gestured vaguely at the endless rolling desert in front of them. "Back and forth, first this way and then that." She rattled the map again as she frowned at it, and Milly knew that in Meryl's mind she was gripping the Humorous Typhoon by his neck collar and giving him a much needed shaking.

Calming down, Meryl went on, "However Milly, there is a positive side to this."

"What's that Meryl?"

"Because he is meandering from one side of the horizon to the other, and we are going in a straight line, we should be able to catch up with him pretty soon." That piece of news brought a small smile across her face. Albeit a devious grin, Milly noted, which did not bode well for the Stampede when Meryl got him in her sights.

"Oh, uh, Meryl?"

"Yes Milly?" Meryl carefully folded up the map and replaced it in her leather bag. Upon looking up at her friend, she saw a worried look on her face. Pulling back on the reins, she brought her toma to a stop. Milly did the same.

Milly bit her bottom lip, wondering if this was the time to bring this up again. "Well, I have noticed that we aren't sending in as many reports lately, and I noticed the money purse is getting a bit slim..." She trailed off, hesitating to give voice to her thoughts.

Meryl watched as Milly lowered her eyes and began to fiddle with the strap holding her smaller bag to the saddle.

"It's just that..." Milly threw Meryl a look, "I'm not the smartest cookie in the knife drawer, but you know... well, it's... umm..." She ground to a halt, face flushing red, obviously uncomfortable.

Meryl smiled and leaned to place her hand on Milly's fumbling fingers, effectively halting the nervous fidgeting. "Milly, you _are _smart! Never let me hear you say that you aren't!" She gently shook her friend's hands and gave her a grin when the blond lifted her eyes to Meryl's face. "Besides, you are the most intuitively smart person I know. And Milly, you are right. But don't you worry about one thing! We'll have enough money to get by. I did send a report at the last town, but since I really don't trust Bernadelli anymore, I've had to start relying on my emergency fund."

The blond now eyed Meryl suspiciously and Meryl leaned back in her saddle, confused by the unusual look. Was there something on her? With a growing alarm she rapidly searched herself, demanding, "What is it? Is there a bug on me!" Meryl went into instant panic mode, "Get it off, get it off..!" It took Milly a while to get Meryl to calm down assuring her constantly that there wasn't a bug on her. Her small friend had an aversion to the small sand spiders that left nasty bites.

Smiling but sticking up a finger in the air in the way of a lecturing professor, "No, but I know what you have been doing! I just figured it out!"

Meryl tried for the innocent look but all she could manage was teeth bared in a grimace.

The light-haired partner raised a pointed finger, "Not only have you not sent any reports back lately, but you've made sure that we have left a town before they can send us our next orders!" Now one eye closed as she focused one bright blue eye on her friend's face and narrowed it, "You have been avoiding directives! You!"

Abashed, Meryl couldn't completely deny it, she was caught fair and square. However, the thing that Milly didn't know was that Meryl had been writing to her family lately and they were sending her money over the telegraph line. A long time ago Meryl had promised herself never to beg for money from her parents, but she didn't want Milly to know that. "Yes, you are right..." For the first time she was the uncertain one, should she continue to lie to Milly about it? Looking down at her fists clutching the reins with a death grip she inquired, "Are you, uh.. you don't.. uh, mind, do you Milly?"

Meryl peered at her friend through her obsidian bangs, uncertainty etched in the lines of her face which was quickly replaced by shock at Milly's sudden burst of laughter. Shaking her head, her eyes alight with infectious joy, she chuckled out, "Oh Meryl, of course it doesn't bother me if you are not sticking to the 'proper procedure'." The chuckling slowed to a stop as she watched the smaller agent's face darken and she began muttering. "I know it is hard for you Meryl, but just remember, whatever is going on and whoever is doing it, is no friend to us."

Meryl lifted her face, still looking up at her friend through her dark pixie bangs and then let out a huff of air. "You are right Milly. We don't know who, or even how many are involved here, on top of which, we don't even know what is going on, but we don't have to add to the mix." Her face darkened, "You know how much I hate being manipulated and used!"

Then Milly noticed her friend giving her a measuring look, making her shift uneasily in her saddle.

"Maybe you should be the leader Milly." She gave her head a sad shake, ruffling the feathered hair to fan about her face, making it look more pixie-ish than usual.

"No you don't Meryl Stryfe! I refuse." With a mulish look, Milly crossed her arms in front of her and gave her partner her best glare, which she learned from Meryl so she wasn't sure if it would work or not.

A slow smile broke out over Meryl's face, and then she shrugged one small shoulder and said, "Okay, if that's the way you want it." With gray eyes twinkling with those lavender highlights, she stated, "But from now on, you are no longer the junior partner." She held up a hand when Milly opened her mouth to protest. "From this day forward, I am no longer the senior agent." Here her eyes went dead serious as she stared into her friend's face, "We are in this together as equal partners thick or thin, got it?"

Milly smiled wide enough to show her dimples, as a mischievous glint showed in her eye. "I got promoted!"

"Yes, that's right." Meryl replied, not trusting that gleam in her friend's eye.

"That means we get to celebrate, right?"

"Er, yes," she stated cautiously, "Within reason, Milly," and gave the blond her most piercing _I-mean-it_ stare.

Milly cocked her head as if considering that then shrugged, "Okay then. But it has to have lots of pudding! Maybe even a pudding cake!"

Of course, thought Meryl, but she gave in with a half-smile and shake of her head. Smiling, she replied, "Right! Now that that's settled Milly, are you ready to get our man?"

"Oh yes, let's get a man!"

Meryl rolled her eyes, "You make us sound like we are hard up for a date rather than carrying out an important mission." She lightly tapped her heels to the sides of her toma and started off, Milly's toma only a step behind her.

"Well, gee Meryl, when _do _we get to get the men?" Milly asked in a near-whine. " We haven't been on a date in like in, you know, _forever_!"

"Focus Milly, focus."

"I am Meryl."

"On the mission Milly, not on men."

"Shucks."

* * *

**Apples**

**[Stardate: 11-23-0110-7:00]**

"Wake up there Sunshine!" A voice roared into Vash's ear and he woke up swearing with a cocked fist ready to swing. He was going to nail that voice one way or another.

"Whoa there! You sure are a fiesty one when getting woke up, you know that?"

"Huh?" Vash opened groggy eyes. He stared at Jake and then blinked. Upon lifting his head and peering about, he could barely see the hazy form of a town in the distance.

After knuckling the sleep out of his eyes the outlaw then focused his attention on his rescuer who was backing away from the window where Vash's head had been resting.

"Did you just call me 'Sunshine'?" he growled out.

"Ah sorry," the man rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and grinned, "My Ma used to say that all the time. Didn't mean to offend you there."

"Just startled me that's all."

"Yeah, I could tell."

Quickly changing the subject, Vash asked as he looked at the town, "So, aren't you going into town?"

"Nope." I can't be seen there."

Vash smirked. Couldn't be seen eh? Why did it seem that he always fell in with the unsavory crowd? He couldn't begin to count how often he ended up mixing company with the riffraff. Being well-acquainted with that type of person, he was a little surprised that Jake was in that class. He would not have guessed that the young, fresh-faced, friendly man was wanted by the law.

Stretching his arms out and giving a great yawn, Vash turned lids still heavy with sleep toward the town.

"Which one is it?" He asked as he opened the handle and pushed on the door of the car. It opened with a squeal of rusty hinges that made Vash wince. With a weariness that pulled at his bones, he emerged from the car and tried to straighten. He could hear the kinks in his back as his spine uncurled.

"Eh?"

"The name, what's the name of the town?"

"Seedwell."

"Oh crap."

"What's the matter? Been here before?"

"Once upon a time. They didn't care for me much."

Jake laughed, "What, you? Hard to believe."

Vash reached into his coat, fumbled a moment and then pulled out a wad of bills . "Um, I'm not too good at this, but here, take this and thanks."

Jake looked down at the double dollars Eriks was offering him, staring at it blankly for a moment before a grin broke out on his face. Looking back up to the silver-haired man, he said, "Keep it. If you use it to get a drink, lift one in remembrance of July. That's all I ask."

Vash stared at him, eyes now hard and cold behind the obscuring lenses. Slowly he forced his shoulders to relax and took a deep breath. Gradually the tightness left his face. "Sure, I'll do that." _In hell_.

_"Oh how grateful and appreciative you are when some stranger who has no reason whatsoever to help you, saves your sorry scrawny ass from a slow painful death."_

Vash ground his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, the voice did have a point. Jake was just being a Good Samaritan. It was a rare thing to find one out in these parts, not that he liked the type, but still, Vash knew he owed the man.

"You don't know what you are asking, but okay, I'll do it. Just one though."

"S'all I ask," replied Jake with a grin as he stuck both hands in his front pockets.

He stood watching as Eriks reached through the open window of the truck and grabbed his duffle bag. Jake could tell it was heavy but the man in the black coat pulled it out and slung it over his shoulder with ease. Turning his face toward the town and started walking. He lifted a hand and gestured a farewell wave to his benefactor.

"HEY!"

Vash stopped but didn't turn around.

A soft chuckle, and then, "You were right, Vash. The apples were the better choice."

Stunned, Vash's mind was instantly paralyzed. He wanted to whip around and demand answers but he was frozen to the spot. Once his mind got in gear and could give orders, his motor responses were still sluggish to act upon his command.

With halting jerks, he turned back to stare at Jake, but the young man wasn't there, he was gone. The truck was gone too. Where they had been was a rising wisp of fine sand before the light breeze lifted it and carried it away.

A door opened in his mind, letting through a memory he wished dead but now rose resurrected and whole, defying the long years keeping it buried and hidden. Vash the Stampede heard voices, not the same that had been speaking to him all along, but children's voices, voices from years ago. One in particular saying, _"Ice cream! I said to get ice cream! Not apples!" And his own voice answering, "Captain, a word in my defense..._

He reached up and pulled the glasses down to rest at the bottom of his nose as he peered, eyes searching back and forth, stunned beyond all comprehension, at the place where Jake had been standing and vanished from. Nothing. Only sand and more sand.

Jake.. of course. Only grown up, looking like the man he would have grown up to,... had July not been lost.

_"Guess he got promoted to guardian angel. Not bad for a small squirt of a gang leader."_

"Shut. The. Hell. Up." Vash answered automatically, but without any trace of rancor in his voice. He pushed the glasses back up in place before turning and starting toward the town. He would think about this later. Right now he had a date with a bottle of the world's most mind-numbing, gut-rotting bottle of anything even remotely alcoholic. He wasn't planning on surfacing for days.

It as indeed an ill-wind that blew at his back.

* * *

**On the Right Track**

**[Stardate: 11-16-0110-6:00]**

"If I go north in this direction, we'll end up in Seedwell? Is that even a town? Oh, it must be this speck right here. You can hardly tell, it's so small. But look at that, it's smack-dab on the fringe between the Waste and the Edge."

Meryl was muttering more to herself as she leaned over a countertop of what could be called the town's bar-restaurant-store-post office-gossip central. If one were being generous. They had come in to ask for directions, but the building was rundown and gave Milly the creeping willies. She also didn't like the way the proprietor was eyeballing her friend; like she was some kind of tasty morsel waiting to be consumed. She scowled at the man who was fingering the knot of the dirty bandana around his throat. Well, not on her watch!

Letting her eyes roam around the surrounding area again, it looked like a room with narrow, dark hallway leading to a grime-streaked door which led to only God knew where. She didn't even want to guess what went on behind those doors. The prevailing mood and tone of the place was weighted with weary shabbiness and bleak hopelessness. The tall blond shifted uneasily in her chair, one hand touching the butt of her stun gun. Her other hand gripped a sack of precious puddings she had just paid for. As this was the Outer, the vanilla and chocolate were the only flavors on hand. It was fun to have a variety to pick from, but really, it didn't matter to Milly, pudding was pudding, and she was grateful for what she could get.

The proprietor had tapped a dirty fingernail in the space between the two towns, he informed her, "Ye take this route here, you'll get there jes fine. And aye that, Seedwell, is perched on the edge of the Edge." His lips pulled back in a vain attempt of a smile, showing yellow teeth.

Milly, usually the friendliest of the two had quickly purchased a full bag of pudding and the two had gone to sit by the window, not that it had let in much light since it was filmed over with old grease and filth. It was the table farthest from the bar which made it the most desirable place to sit and mull over their travel plans.

However, ever since the 'Edge' was mentioned, the hair on the back of Milly's neck stood on end. Milly didn't like where this conversation was heading. The general belief was that there wasn't anything beyond the Edge, only sand and more sand but worse than that. There were whispers about what was beyond the Edge, sightings of strange beings and goings on, ghosts, aliens, voices, weird things that no sane person would want to be a part of. It was even said that people who returned, were crazed, gibbering, drooling mental cases. Milly shot her partner a nervous look. Meryl had that fanatical gleam in her eye again. The short agent was after the real Vash the Stampede and nothing was going to stop her this time. If he went that direction, Meryl would soon be following, and not even the boogums that lived in the Waste beyond the Edge would deter her. Milly wanted to clutch her head and moan. There wasn't enough comfort pudding in the world to ease her frayed nerves!

Unaware of her partner's quiet panic, Meryl tapped on the map with a tapered finger. "Hmm, I see what you mean. That's the last outpost. It was known for one thing, that it was built to be the leaping off point for settlers and scientists to investigate the unexplored Wastes beyond the Edge. The place once housed a plant facility but I thought it bit the dust long ago."

Getting that creepy feeling of eyes watching her, Meryl looked up to find the greasy-haired owner of the establishment. Was he winking at her? It was hard to tell beneath that persistent leer on his face. She pretended not to have seen anything and pasted on a weak smile. The quicker he answered their questions, the quicker they could leave. Still, she needed to certain about their route.

Slowly pushing back her chair, Meryl stood up with the map while eyeing the man behind the bar distastefully. "I'd better check to make sure, and here is someone who is a local and would know, just to be on the safe side. Routes have a way of disappearing in the Outer and we don't want to get lost, especially not now." Stiffening her spine, Meryl walked with determined steps over to the bar and placed the map on it and began consulting the owner.

Meryl repeated what she had said to Milly just a moment ago, "The place once housed a plant facility but I thought it burned out a long time ago."

"Tha's right little lady." Meryl gritted her teeth but held her professional business smile firmly in place.

"Maybe it were dying a while back, but they had government technician folk stop in years ago and fixed up their remaining living bulb so that it works now. Not a huge place, but it's got a fair amount of folk that still live there. More'n what live here anyways. Still, it's small compared to where you fine ladies are from."

Meryl nodded, ignoring his rather obvious wink again, to mull over the information. Slightly bigger population wise and more businesses, yet she was willing to bet that it was as lawless as this one. With any luck, she and Milly would be able to get better accommodations, meaning, clean beds and running water (one could only hope), modern communications systems, and a more reliable postal system. Her eyes snapped back into focus as she took in the proprietor in front of her, smiling at her with tobacco-stained teeth, several of which were missing. She didn't even want to mention the smell coming from his mouth. It was all she could do to keep her hand from reaching up and clamping over her nose. Instead, she backed up a step and refolded her trusty map.

"Thank you. You have been most helpful."

Doing what probably seemed to him as a playful come on, he wagged the bushy brows and stroked a hand over hair so dark from grease it was hard to say what the original color was once upon a time. "No need to leave so soon." He let his gaze dart downwards before lifting them again, saying, "You could make a lot of friends here. We don't often see pretty girls in these parts."

_And you won't see us again if I have anything to say about it. _Meryl promised herself so firmly that she was afraid it had been said aloud. "No, really, we have to be going now. We are on a tight schedule and people are expecting us. Important people," she emphasized the last statement in case he was light in the head.

"Surely they could wait. They wouldn't be mad at two pretty eyefuls such as ..."

Meryl was shoved aside only to have the business end of a stun gun replace her. It nudged the owner's nose until he took a hasty step back. "Uhhhhh," was all he could manage to get out as his eyes crossed in the middle at the danger staring him in the face.

"We are grateful and all, but we're leaving now," Milly said firmly, feet spread in an open stance, one arm holding the gun up with ease, the other still clutching onto her sack of beloved pudding.

Eyes riveted on the terrified man, she said, "Let's go Meryl. I don't like it here."

"Right." Meryl wasn't about to argue and without further ado, hastened out the door with Milly following on her heels.

Once outside, both women kept their eyes on the door. They weren't expecting to be followed but it paid to be careful. After stashing away the recently purchased supplies, (Meryl making sure that meant 'not just pudding,') they mounted their tomas and started out of town.

"Seedwell, is it Meryl?" Sounded Milly, as chipper as always as if the earlier unpleasant event never happened.

"I do believe we are getting close Milly. I have this feeling in my bones."

"North is true then?"

"As the crow flies."

"What's that mean?"

"No idea."

* * *

**Hair of the Dog**

**[Stardate: 11-23-0110-20:00]**

Vash lifted his head off his fist and looked around indifferently at the decor around him. The walls were made of stone, chipped and showing age stains. Once upon a time the stone had been white and gleaming. Over the many decades and neglect, it was now a muddy gray color. The town thrived for only a short period until it became apparent that the planet was indeed, one huge desert. Seedwell had been a part of that last shred of hope that the settlers could find anything green growing on the planet. Once that hope was lost, faces and attention turned back to the towns where the most plant facilities flourished. One could tell, for not a sign of any wood or even fake wood could be found. Nothing like that was imported out to these parts so near the Edge. Vash remembered what the 'Edge' used to stand for even if no one else alive did. It was short for, 'The Edge of Lost Hope', which then turned into, 'The Edge of Nowhere'. Yes, this was just another water-starved, dirt-encrusted town. His kind of place. He also hoped they didn't remember him from his last visit, but that had been years ago when he was younger, blond, and sporting a red coat at the time.

"Thanks pops."

He pulled the shot glass toward him and tossed out a wad at the bartender. He didn't care if it was too much or not enough. Yes, he was different, and not just in looks. He was saying 'please', 'sorry' and 'thanks' and he didn't like it but couldn't seem to help himself.

Voices, ghosts of dead kids, even a ghost truck... how the stinking hell does a truck become a ghost? His head hurt. Why him? Why did all the freaking weird shit have to happen to him all the time? This was too much. He used his middle finger to shove the bridge of his glasses in place. It was starting to turn into a nervous habit. For reasons he couldn't fathom, he was becoming obsessive about keeping his red eyes covered. If they never turned back to their original color, he might as well weld these sunglasses to his face. It was better than repeatedly shoving at the nose piece even if they hadn't slipped down.

He ran a hand through the silver strands of his hair. _Nerves_, he told himself. Everything that had happened to him lately was so out of the norm. Even for him where 'normal' was as foreign a concept as space travel was to a toma.

_"Nothing is wrong with me," _he whispered as he looked down at the fiery glints reflected in his glass.

_"Want me to run that by me one more time?"_

Vash flopped his head down on the forearm resting on the counter of the bar. "God help me. I am finally cracking up. Next I'll be booked into a room at the loony bin."

_"Hey, no fair calling for help from on high. This is between you and me."_

_"Go to hell."_

_"Easy enough, that's your own memories."_

_"I hate you."_

_"And we are only getting started."_

_"Who the hell are you anyway and why are you doing this!"_

_"Ah, ah, you aren't quite ready yet."_

_"I'm in hell."_

_"That's the spirit!"_

Vash lifted his head when he heard the clinking of a glass near his head. Looking up he saw the bartender walking away. Over his shoulder he informed his lone customer, "You look like you need it."

Sitting up straight, Vash picked up the bottle and read the label. His eyebrows shot up. It was one of the better brands of whiskey, nearly the first that was produced on the planet. He was impressed. A little place like this having a bottle of December's Velvet Gold on hand, that was unusual indeed!

He poured a bit in his shot glass and lifted it to his lips. Right away the aroma of it hit his nose and he paused in appreciation, to relish the moment. This was going to be good, and hopefully, help him forget or at the very least, get numb. With a flick of his wrist, the outlaw tossed back the mouthful and let it slide over his tongue and down his throat. He set down the glass and wiped his mouth. Excellent.

He looked over at the bartender, wiping out glasses with a rag and said, "Thanks, that hit the spot."

"Welcome gramps. You looked in a needy way there." And with an embarrassed shrug of his shoulders, "T'were paid for already by young feller said an old man would be needing it."

Gramps? _Gramps!_ Vash pulled down a lock of silver-white hair and rubbed it between his fingers. He had to admit, it _was _the right color for gramp-hood. He realized with the low lighting of the joint, that the bartender was unable to see a face unmarred by age lines. Maybe it was for the better. He wasn't finished drinking but thought it wiser if he went back to the room he had rented earlier. Besides, he had a few bottles stashed there from his run to the store.

Then he frowned, but who was his benefactor? He was alone, and had been since he walked in and sat down at the bar. He peered over one should and then the other in case someone had come in since he had first sat down. No, still no one.

"So, who's the guy I need to thank for this bounty?" Vash asked with a smirk, wondering if it was set up. He knew the bottle wasn't tampered with, he was an expert in that area and the seal had been intact before he opened it.

The bartender shook his head, "He didn't give a name, just said to say, "Don't forget to toast Lost July."

He was barely able to repress the shiver that wanted to race down his spine. Instead, the slender outlaw put on a grin,gave the edge of the bar a hearty slap, and stood up from his stool while informing the man, "Well, it's time I got to bed. At my age, we old folks need our rest."

"G'night to you sir."

"Right."

Vash the Stampede had a promise to keep and he wanted to be alone for it.

* * *

**Riding Pains**

**[Stardate: 11-30-0110-19:00]**

"Oh Meryl, the bottom of my behind end hurts!" Complained Milly as she swung her leg over the saddle, making sure not to get it caught on the saddle horn. Sliding down, her feet hit the ground only to have her knees threaten to buckle underneath her. Hastily, she grabbed the strap of the stirrup and held herself up until her legs became accustomed to standing again.

A soft thud came from the other side of her toma along with a pained groan. Meryl had dismounted and sounded like she was in the same amount of discomfort as Milly.

At last they were in Seedwell, the county seat of absolutely nothing with six full days of travel behind them. It was dark now, the moons riding high against the starry night, testament of the lateness of the hour. Milly leaned her head against her toma's shoulder and patted it wearily. It turned its head to look at her and snorted softly before shifting its weight. Milly could barely muster up a smile, knowing that the poor beast was just as tired as she was, if not more since it was the one doing all the carrying. She gave the toma a fond pat.

"Oh my goodness Milly. I am standing on solid ground and yet it feels like I am still rocking back and forth." There was a pause. "I may be seasick."

"What we need is a hot bath and we will be good as new." Milly's cheerful tone couldn't hide the strain of fatigue it held.

"Toot sweet Milly. Tonight we soak."

Milly sighed, too tired to even reply.

Both leaned against their mounts for a few moments longer as muscles protested this new position. Milly wasn't aware that she nearly nodded off until Meryl began talking, giving herself a pep-talk.

"Okay Stryfe, get it together. You've felt worse. People are counting on you, you can't let them down now just because of a few little saddle sores now. Buck up, stiff upper lip and all!"

Milly waited for Meryl to finish. It wouldn't have surprised her if Meryl ended up giving herself a 'high-five' at the end of her little 'rally around the flag' speech. There was a moment of silence and Milly's head started to drift down again since Meryl was now mumbling softly to herself.

"All right Milly!" Exclaimed Meryl.

"WHAT?" The tall blonde agent's head snapped up, mouth slack and eyes staring around her, startled yet still glazed, "I mean, huh? What?"

Whatever Meryl had said to herself in that speech of encouragement must have worked as she seemed full of renewed energy. Life was so unfair. The blond stood up on her toes and peered over the saddle at the enthused I-Thrive-On-Risk Agent.

"Stay here Milly, I'll go sign us in and get a room!"

"Right. Stay here. Got it." The youngest Thompson child leaned her forehead against the toma's padded shoulder. Not a problem. Milly doubted she could move even if she had wanted to. The toma made a grumbling hiccup at the contact.

"Bad bird." Milly mumbled without force as the toma tried to shift away from the human.

She must have nodded off for a minute or two since the next thing she knew, Meryl was shaking her shoulder.

"C'mon Milly, let's go, I got a room for us."

"Right, I'll... bags... "

And amused chuckle emanated from Meryl as she gently took her friend's elbow and guided her toward the door.

"I already had someone to take them up for us."

Milly could hear the amusement in Meryl's voice, "While you were _guarding _the tomas and supplies."

Then giving her friend a concerned and contrite look as she stumbled up the steps, she spoke softly, "I'm sorry Milly; maybe we should have stopped earlier and camped out for the night."

"No biggie. I enjoy..."

"Not sleeping?" Supplied Meryl sardonically. "Thanks, I appreciate the gesture, but you are so exhausted you can't see straight and I'm a little fatigued myself." She shook her head, pointing her tall friend in the direction of the stairs. "You are obviously asleep on your feet, yet you are trying to be helpful. You are amazing, really!"

Milly held up a limp finger, "Tha's me, 'mazin' Mil.." She yawned, "...leee."

Meryl tried to stop the sympathetic yawn in response to Milly's but couldn't. Her eyelids were getting droopier by the second. At the top of the stairs, she stared blearily at the sign until she figured out that they needed to turn left to get to their room. She started down the hall saying, "You need to go to bed Milly. We both do, it's been a long..."

"Righ..." Milly answered and stopped in her tracks. Shoulders slumping forward along with her chin, she looked ready to collapse right there in the hall. Before blond agent could do so, Meryl was next to her, holding her up and tugging her to keep moving. As it turned out, the raven-haired agent had to cajole, yank, and threaten her friend down the hallway to keep her moving. She doubted though, that any of it sank in. It was by supreme effort that Meryl got the door unlocked and shoved her friend in the direction of one of the beds. It was with a heartfelt sigh of relief that one tired insurance agent shut the door behind her and locked it again.

* * *

**Too Close for Comfort**

**[Stardate: 12-30-0110-20:30]**

The legendary outlaw had been in town for a couple of days now waiting for an inspection team to finish at the facility. He dared not show up while they were around. He didn't harbor any illusions that one of his sisters would be able to help him with a bit of a boost. However, he wasn't going to pass up this small chance to find out. His mouth turned down in a sour expression. It wasn't much further to the village, but he would need supplies first. And perhaps even a plan would be handy. He really wasn't sure whether the Doc had heard about his most recent exploits, but he was pretty sure they would soon enough. Hopefully Vash had out-run the gossip getting this far.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, coat tossed over the end in a haphazard fashion, boots pitched across the room, he lifted the bottle, swished the contents around, put it to his mouth and then upended it, taking another long pull. Lowering it he held it eyelevel. There were only a couple of swallows left in it. With an indifferent shrug he upended it again until the last mouthful was gone. Then, leaning forward he placed his forearm on a knee and let the bottle slide from numb fingers to the floor with a thud. Through drooping lids, he watched it roll a few feet away where it slowed to a stop. His long lean arm reached out for another bottle and pulled the cork out with his teeth. After a few gulps he clumsily set it on the table next to the bed and burped. So human. He chuckled. It was beginning to appear that the more he complained about humans the more he was turning into one. "_You become what you hate"_, wasn't that the old axiom? It struck him funny and he began chuckling. If that was so, he certainly didn't look like one, did he now.

Reaching up, he fingered a strand of hair that he knew was shining as the silverware on a fat politician's table. A mirror wasn't needed at the moment to behold the luminous locks. They were falling down messily around his head and face. He dropped his face into his hand to block out the sight. It was taking more and more effort to hold himself upright, fighting off the waves of anxiety that threatened what little hold of sense and reason he had left. There was so much happening all at once that he didn't understand and that angered him. He was beleaguered by despair or rage as if he had no control over what was going on with him, mentally or physically.

The tall slender man groaned. He didn't have the energy right now to deal with all these thoughts and also race his metabolism to a drunken stupor. The closest he was able to achieve tonight was a slight numbness that he knew wouldn't last long.

Just then a particular memory raced through his mind, and he sat up stiffly as it unfolded before his eyes. Knives, with the appearance of an eleven-year-old hunched over a chess game with a smiling Rem looking on. A scowling Vash sat across from his brother, chin in hand as he stared at the chess board; his brow was puckered in concentration. Meanwhile, Knives leaned back in his chair with a smug look as he drank his tea. Arrogant bastard, even then. Vash slapped the side of his head which caused stars of pain to appear across his sight. It was well worth it to have the memory immediately dissolve. This was unsettling, for he believed and still needed to believe that the memories of the early years were safely locked behind a strong mental door. He never, willingly anyway, visited his childhood so why were these dust-coated memories making their way to the surface at this time? Better yet, how were they seeping out past his carefully constructed barriers?

He wasn't going to whine about it, no, he had a better idea of how to deal with _everything _that had happened to him of late. At first he was determined to kill Knives, but lately the tall Plant was beginning to think that a different plan would be more beneficial to him. First however, he would have to find said brother. Then Vash would make him explain what exactly was causing this upheaval in his body. Lastly, Knives would correct the damage. It sounded like a good enough plan, but beyond that little bit, it hurt too much to think and Vash clutched his head, fingers digging into his moonlit silvery hair.

"I _**am**_going sandshit in the head, and it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy." Then Vash waited, his muscular frame tight with tension for the 'voice' to make a comment. When none was forthcoming, he relaxed, not realizing how taut and rigid he had become. "Stupid voice." He paused, holding his breath but once again, no inner voice answered him. Finally he shrugged a broad, toned shoulder. Must be the maid's day off. Things were looking up.

At that moment he heard footsteps coming down the hall, growing louder as they approached his door and he tensed all over again while listening intently. His hand closed over the silver gun which was never far from his reach. With the release of a pent-up breath, he waited as two pairs of footsteps passed by his room and halted one room down from him. He tilted his head, hearing the mumble of voices as a key was inserted, the door opened, and then shut. From the light steps, he guessed the two were women. With the tip of his gun he tapped his chin musingly wondering if either one was beddable or not. Then with indifference, he dismissed the thought. There was too much going on to be distracted by pleasure, especially since he knew his mental processes were slower and moving more sluggishly than usual.

Wonderful. Just what he didn't need; neighbors in the next room. However, even if they weren't play material, it would be smart to find out if they were the typical sightseers or not. Not that he needed menacing agents of just about anyone who was ever hostile toward him, to be chasing after him right now. However, it was more than likely that they were either criminals or bounty hunters; or maybe they were sightseeing call girls. The argent haired man snorted at his own whimsy. Well, not that he cared either way as long as they, whoever _they _were, stayed out of his way and left him alone.

_"Is that right?"_

"Dammit! You again! Don't you ever take a mental health day off?" What he hoped didn't show was how unnerving this was getting to be. Who was it? Knives? The voice was familiar but this one had a warped sense of humor... and really, accusing Knives of having a sense of humor was like accusing a toma of sporting a mermaid tail and unicorn horn. Legato? Vash pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Could be, but he had even less of a sense of humor than Knives did. In fact, Knives was a freaking comedian when compared to Legato. If not them, then who? It had to be someone with the ability to invade a person's mind, but who was left?

_"Missed me?."_

Vash hung his head down and swore.

_"So, what's on for tomorrow chief?"_

"Don't ever..." Vash started to say, then stopped. What was the use?

Vash slumped back onto his bed letting his head flop back onto his pillow, and then pulled it out from under him to clasp it over his head and ears.

_"Like that's gonna help."_

"If you don't stop talking to me, I am going to buy a home lobotomy kit and use it on myself."

"_Hmmmm, gutsy, but I wouldn't trust you to cut straight on the dotted line_."

Vash covered his mouth with the pillow and yelled. The cursing he was going to do was on the homicidal level and had to be illegal somewhere.

* * *

**Getting Warmer**

**[Stardate: 11-23-0110-20:45]**

"Meryl?" Called Milly from the bathroom where, at Meryl's urging, she finished taking a shower and though still weary enough to fall asleep standing up, but at least now, she was clean. It was so much nicer to fall into bed when not covered in trail dust. But then she heard a noise coming from the room next door.

"Yeff," came the distracted answer from around the pencil Meryl had gripped between her teeth.

Milly walked slowly into the room towel drying her hair. "Did you hear something that kind of sounded like a scream?"

The petite agent looked up from the piles of forms she was organizing to stare blankly at her friend. The pencil obviously forgotten she continued to speak around it, "'Creamf?" and looked around the room with a creased brows as if searching for the source of the 'creamf'.

Milly stopped drying her hair and stared at her partner and then shrugged. It must have been her imagination.

After replacing the towel, she crawled into her bed and let her head sink down into the pillow. Within seconds she was asleep, the ceiling light and growled mutterings from Meryl's side of the room, not withstanding. Having the lights on and the rustling of paper, along with Meryl's sarcastic comments, had never bothered her before. She was able to sleep through noise much worse than that; after all, she had grown up in the Thompson clan, generators of natural and unnatural noise without rhyme, reason, or apology. Noise meant life, and life was good so therefore, noise was good. It made perfect sense...at least to anyone with the last name of Thompson.


	31. CH 30 Reunited at Last

_Hi everyone, it's Milly! Yes, it's been well over a year since we've posted a chapter of this story, and months have passed in the storyline as well. We're getting close to wrapping things up (haven't we said that for a few years now?) I hope you'll enjoy this little prelude to the end. Thank you to everyone who is reading, everyone who has read, kept following us through thick and thin and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!_

**Chapter 30**

**Reunited at Last**

**Springtime Blues**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-9:00]**

The day was hot, bright and dry; which meant of course, that the weather was status quo, just like always. It was nice to know there were some things that could be counted on. With his string of luck, he needed what he could get. Despite the heat, he was enjoying the weather. Thanks to his sister, he wasn't sweating like a human. Indeed, it was rather pleasant that day. This was the first day that he could say he was in a contented mood. His only complaint was the bright suns light intent on piercing through his eyeballs. Absently, he reached an index finger under a lens and rubbed. Outside of that, he was enjoying the fact he was in an exceptional frame of mind for he couldn't remember the last time he was able to relish such a beautiful day.

Months had passed since the day his inner voice had bothered him. It calmed down when he wasn't near _them._ The insurance girls, or should he say, the insurance _girl_, made that voice trickle up to the surface, and so he learned to avoid it by avoiding them. It also was quiet as long as he didn't think about women in general or killing in general, and eventually he learned if he just thought _good_ thoughts and enjoyed life, it would go away all together. So once he had visited one of his sisters, fixed up his arm a bit, and travelled on his own for awhile, he was feeling pretty good about himself.

Feeling charitable since his Plant-nature was finally kicking in, a sparse grin graced his lips as he listened vaguely to the sounds of a small gang of boys playing nearby. They were kicking a ball around the crumbled fountain off in the center of the town square. The few statues on it were stained and broken but the observant bystander could still make out the faces of angels and spaceships on the sides of the cracked circular basin. The boys leapt up on the sides and launched themselves over, landing lightly on the other side, using it to aid in pounces from the air onto other members of their gang, or as a surface to kick the ball against the side and ricochet it in another direction. Vash lazily opened his eyes and turned to watch when the play passed near him. It was impossible to ignore them, especially when a couple of them raced past him leaving his coat swaying in their wake. The ragged boys with holes in their clothes he could easily drop bullets through, ignored him as they neared the porch where he leaned against the wall.

Suddenly a shout broke his reverie.

"Look out, tall mister!" He heard the words right before a ball rocketed off the wall in front of his nose before springing away again. Every time it bounced, small puffs of dust were kicked up in its wake. The pack of boys, like a hive swarming after a queen bee, sprinted after and converged on it before it could get away from them.

The inebriated outlaw groaned and tapped at the bridge of his golden sunglasses, reassuring himself that they were still in place. Where were all these kids coming from anyway? If anything, the noise from them was growing louder with the game. He frowned slightly as he noticed that there weren't any girls in the pack. Again, the pack of boys raced by, just barely brushing against him in their passage, but it was enough for him to decide that it wise to move out of the path of impending doom. There was entirely too much noise, commotion and, on top of that, an excruciating amount of light for his poor red (in all meanings of the word), bloodshot eyes to take. The noise dimmed as the action continued away from him.

Seeing a shaded spot next to some stacked boxes further down by the building on the corner, he leisurely ambled in that direction. Set within the recess of a porch overhang, it was almost dark in comparison to the brightness of the day. With a small sound of gratitude at the reprieve from the sun, the brightness of it, not the heat, he leaned back against the wall. A sense of lassitude stole over him as the pedestrians strolled by him on the boardwalk. Closing his eyes, he let himself settle into a light doze when he heard the tap of boot heels coming near. He frowned, he knew those steps from somewhere.

Curious, he cocked his head to listen to the murmur of voices. His covered eyes popped open in disbelief, although he shouldn't have been surprised. It was the Stampede-obsessed-workaholic-Risk-Agent-Vash-sitter from insurance hell. She was good at popping up in unexpected places. Unconsciously, a small grin formed even as he snorted in annoyance. Once again, he couldn't believe it, of all places for her to show up, it had to be in this miserable place.

The footsteps stopped nearby and he heard, "Excuse me sir, could you point me in the direction of the nearest post office?"

"Tain't but one purty little lady."

He almost snickered at that. He could imagine the look on her face at hearing her described in such a manner. One thing he had learned from all the stalking was she was touchy about her height, but especially about being condescended to like she didn't possess any brains. He imagined she was trying to school her face into a pleasant mask, except for that betraying twitch in one eyebrow. Oh, and also to reign in a tart remark. The lengthening pause was indicative of one or the other, or even both.

Finally, he heard her huff in annoyance, and from what he knew of her she was losing the battle of keeping a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Well, uh thank you. I think." She prompted. "So, where _is _the postal located?"

"That way, then turn right at Lem's Garage. Two doors down it'ull be."

With great caution, the lanky gunslinger leaned forward to peer around the edge of the boxes. He saw a dark head nod in thanks and then the diminutive female agent still wearing her standard whites, started off in a direction leading away from him. He slumped back against the wall. What a curious little thing she was, and so adorably cute too with that prim, no-nonsense demeanor of hers. It just made him want to.. want to... Whoa there! Don't want to follow that trail. Silver spikes whipped around his head as he tried to shake away unwanted and dangerous (to him) thoughts out of his head. He didn't have time for this, that was already decided. Still... a mischievous grin spread across his lips, no one said he couldn't have a little fun. He paused for a second, waiting, but no sarcastic quip from that inner voice was offered. Good.

An evil grin crossed his face as an idea came to mind. If nothing else, he could follow her again if he got too bored. It was especially fun now that she was hyper-vigilant to her surroundings and it would make her _testy _if she thought she was being followed again. He took a deep lungful of air in and let it out. For some strange reason he wasn't feeling all that poorly anymore. He waited until the footsteps died away before stepping out into the street. It was then he was attacked.

The force of what felt like a hard rubber brick hit him on the side of the head and knocked him into the wall with such force he was thrown backwards and lost his footing. Already falling, it didn't matter that he tripped over his own feet. Toppling over, the side of his forehead slammed first against a box, then a windowsill. By this time, Vash was seeing stars. He continued backward and landed on his tailbone, with a jarring shudder that lanced all the way up to the base of his skull even as the momentum sent him flying back to hit his head against the ground. In spite of being a Plant, having his head whipped back and forth on his spine gave him a headache as much as it would for any person in similar straits. And like any normal person, he was in real need of a painkiller.

Fleetingly, he realized that even as the ball bounded off his head, Vash knew that he could have easily caught it before it hit him. However, he made the instantaneous decision to let himself get hit. Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't cuss them out, which he did, with vehement fervor and awe-inspiring creativity. One hand clutched at the sore spot where he had been hit as he slowly cracked his eyes open to give his attackers a steely-eyed glare before squeezing them shut again. Not that they could see the glare, only his eyebrows lowering in a thunderous frown. It didn't matter, he was sure they could feel it from where they stood. Angels on the hoof! He gripped his poor hurting head that was pounding like a runaway sandsteamer.

"Geez Haron, now we're for it! I tolja not to kick the ball that way!"

"Ya didn't not!"

"Did!"

"NOT!"

"DID!"

"Tighten it!"

"Blow sand!"

Vash gritted his teeth and scrunched his eyes, the yelling was splitting his skull like a pile driver.

"Matt, Tanni, you both stepped wrong." Interrupted a slightly older sounding youth. "Now ya gotta get the ball back."

What, no concern for the downed stranger felled by a viciously thrown ball? Opening his eyes a mere slit, he looked down to find the boy's faded rubber ball cradled in the crook of one arm. Somewhere in the midst of all the excitement and pain, he had also managed to nab the ball.

"Geez, Haron ya near killed that ole geezer. Ma'll skin us naked!"

The fearsome outlaw lifted his face to scowl at a small gang of boys peering back at him with trepidation. The oldest one stood slightly in front of the younger ones, arms akimbo, gazing down without expression at the old man all dressed in black. The man who was currently in possession of their ball.

From the way they were eyeing him he knew if he made one threatening move they would scatter like mist on the wind. He carefully schooled his face to neutral and tried a lopsided smile. Lifting the ball in one hand he asked, (as if he didn't know), "Is this yours?" He wondered if any of them would be brave enough to respond. Apparently he underestimated them, they all nodded, inching a bit closer.

Narrowly they watched him as he rose to his feet and brushed the sand from his coat. Then he straightened, although slowly so as not to cause undue alarm. His senses could already tell their muscles were tense, ready for flight. "Want it back?" Casually, he tossed the ball in the air and caught it without giving it a second glance. He watched their eyes follow the ball with greedy keenness. In this little burg there wasn't much in the way of entertainment. They were desperate to get their ball back. He smiled lazily.

"Okay mister, whaddya want for it, but I warn ya, we don't do weird."

The lean gunman shook his silver spiky mane and grinned. "No, just a little game. Do you know how to play 'Slay the Sandman'? He watched as they nodded, still eyeing him suspiciously. "Okay then, you know the rules but here are the conditions, me against you. If I win, you have to buy me an ice cream cone. If you win, I have to buy each one of you a cone." He looked them over. The leader turned his back and Vash saw him gesture. The others came in close and he knew they were counting coins, making sure they had the enough change between them to make good on the bet. True, it was too good to be true, but if the old man actually made good, they would get a treat they rarely had in their young lives. He kept tossing the ball between his hands, their eyes were glued to it.

Turning back around the leader, a whipcord thin youth and somewhat on the stringy side, but Vash was willing to bet his left arm that the lad was strong, quick and agile, but above all, smart. He would be, the gunman mused, they all would have to be to survive here.

"Sounds more'n fair gramps, it's a deal." A critical gaze, much too old for one so young, roamed over Vash evaluating... finally he made a gesture to include the whole gang, "Do you have enough for all'n us 'cause we kick toma ass." He tilted his head to the side at the unintended insult. "Since it's us against only you, you need points to start?"

Vash caught the ball and held it in his left hand and grinned back saying, "don't need it, don't expect it, don't want it." This was going to be fun.

"C'mon old man, whaddya waiting for, seeds to fall?"

He quirked up an eyebrow, funny how a historical tragedy he had lived through was also the inspiration for an adage to develop.

"For good or ill," he said with a smirk, "seeds will fall." With that, he gave a mighty heave and threw the ball high into the air. He chuckled at the sight of the awed faces at how far into the air he tossed the ball. The boys scattered, keeping an eye on the ball at the same time. Let the games begin!

**Ice Cream**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-12:00]**

Later, in front of Vern's Ive's Dream End & Pour We Hum, a score of sweaty, dust-covered boys with scrapes on their knees and elbows, were lounging at the outdoor tables devouring the cones set in front of them.

"Gee gramps, you sure are clumsy. I can't believe you lost..." The dust and sweat covered boy stopped because another boy sitting next to him, equally as dirty, rammed his sharp elbow into the speaker's stomach with a glowering frown.

"Hole it fool. The man bought us cones!"

The leader, seeing the action, nodded. "Sen is right. How often comes that we get this rare lip smackin's? And two cones each too." Black eyes peered over at Vash approvingly. "You good folk, gramps. We beholdin' a fair tally to ya's if needed."

Vash leaned back in his wrought iron chair and answered with a wry smile as he finished his own vanilla with sprinkles cone. He let them win of course, but the fun experienced was beyond price. At this moment in time it could truly be said that he didn't thirst to see anyone dead. And that was saying something. He knew the boys respected him now even if he did lose two games in a row to them. The fact that he made good on his word earned him the light of hero worship evidence in their eyes now.

Rising from his seat, he reached into his voluminous coat and pulled out more coins. He tossed them to clink on the table. Instantly numerous pairs of eyes were rooted to the spot but no one dared reach for them. "And one on the house."

The leader, his name still unknown, stood and stated clearly for all to hear, "You gave us no sand for luggin' and we keep to remembering." He turned to his fellows, "Bright, ain't it so, all you joeys?" There was a chorus that answered. Vash wasn't sure but he thought they were assuring him that they owed him a favor. He merely nodded back, and started off down the street. His arm was hurting again and he knew what to do for that. Automatically his steps took him in that direction.

**Insurance Girls**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-12:00]**

The second morning in town, Milly sat up in bed and straightened out her arms above her head and yawned. Joints popped and she gave a satisfied grunt as her muscles stretched out. This was going to be a good day. Yesterday she found a place that sold ice cream and pudding, granted it was the three basic flavors of strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate. At least it was one more flavor than the last town. She was just happy to find pudding at all on the edge of the wilds. With a cheerful grin she bounced out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Later, after a quick shower, she emerged, fresh, clean, dressed, and ready with a smile to greet the day.

It was only then that she noticed Meryl's bed was, not only empty, but neatly made. This did not surprise her in the least as Meryl was an early riser and usually up before her anyway. Walking over to the coat rack to retrieve her overcoat, she spotted a note tacked to the door. Absently lifting her coat off the hook she slid her arms in as she leaned forward to read the note better. Basically it was a list of all the places that Meryl was planning on visiting that morning. Milly laughed when she came to the last one, stating that the typewriter broke in the middle of a last night's typing frenzy on the special 'Eye's Only' report intended for Mr. Bernadelli. From the way it was underlined, along with the heavy exclamation points, Milly knew that her partner was quite put out with the machine.

A smile started to spread across her lips but quickly faded when she began to think about all the trouble they could be in. Well, the trouble they would surely be in if the communiqués from headquarters ever caught up with them. Good thing that last month's report was on already on the way back. Meryl was going to finish writing up this month's report and try to get that sent out. Milly wondered if she was in for another day of rigorous filing now that the typewriter was broken. Still, she tapped her chin, face brightening as she considered the silver lining. On the other side of the equation, it was heavenly to have access to a shower and clean clothes again. And pudding.

Just then her stomach rumbled. Milly paused to look down and patted it, telling it, "Don't worry, I have a container of pudding in my pocket if I can't find a place to eat." With a renewed smile she opened the door and headed down the hall for the stairs while fastening the buttons of her great overcoat. Yesterday she didn't have time to do any exploring and she doubted she would get much of a chance today, unless Meryl sent her on some errands. She wistfully hoped that her partner would, as Milly didn't mind being outside in the least little bit. She always opted to be the one to run and do the errands. At least that gave her a chance to stretch her legs. In fact, she would rather be outside rather than inside and got a little stir crazy if she was cooped up inside for too long.

She stopped at the front desk long enough to find out where a cafe` or diner was. Once she was pointed in the direction, she thanked the girl with the long ponytail, and stared on her way. It shouldn't be a problem finding food. A Thompson could always find food, it was a gift.

After lunch, Meryl and Milly met up at the room but not before Milly checked up on their tomas to make sure they were being fed and groomed correctly. Meryl was back from the appliance repair shop, finding, to her fortune, that the man was newly returned from a trip out of town. However, the smaller agent wasn't pleased and mumbled something about loose platen gears and strike keys that Milly couldn't quite pick out amongst the other disgruntled mutterings coming from under her partner's breath.

Out of the corner of her eye, Milly noticed Meryl's cape crumpled on the floor under the coat rack. That was out of character for Meryl, usually she was so careful with her things; she was a _'place-for-everything,-and-everything-in-its-place' _kind of gal. So reaching down, she scooped up the cape and hung it up before turning to face her friend. The petite agent seemed oblivious. With the stealth of a stalking cat, Milly made her way over to Meryl who was fussing with several stacks of multi-colored paper. Milly's light blue eyes scanned the desk, but it was a jumbled clutter that, if there was any organization to it, it was over her head as to what it could be. Some forms she recognized right off, having filed them a multitude of times, but others were less familiar. Milly winced, please God, don't let it be reams of stuff that needed to be filled out immediately. She gave the untidy piles the evil eye, reports were slowly becoming the bane of her existence and she couldn't understand how Meryl was able to keep her sanity sorting through it all while trying to make sense of it at the same time.

After running a critical eye over the desk, Milly looked around her for the accustomed pre-work set and was surprised to find it wasn't in place. There was a certain routine that was followed before work could be started on the day's work. Milly, being well acquainted with it, cast her eye around looking for the coffee cart. Meryl could fuss around with papers and shuffling all day, but Milly knew her partner well enough to know that nothing would truly get accomplished before Meryl's first cup of coffee for the morning to get her started, and then, one at her elbow for the rest of the working day. Meryl Stryfe was good at her job and everyone knew it, but only her partner and friend knew that it was also fueled by her favorite beverage. Sighing, Milly turned and went to get the cart from the restaurant next door. The fact that Meryl never even looked up and noticed the blond leaving meant that her friend was firmly immersed in troubling thoughts.

When Milly wheeled the cart with the squeaking wheel into the room, Meryl finally looked up from the paper she was writing on with a dazed expression on her face. Then her eyes fell on the cart and a look of relief and joy known only to hardcore addicts of caffeine beverages came over her features. It did not escape Meryl's notice that there was also a bowl of pudding sitting next to the coffeepot. Obviously Milly could be quite resourceful when she needed to be.

The taller agent smiled at the look of pleasure lighting her friend's face. Meryl dropped what she was doing and hurried over to start the coffee only to find that it was already made.

"Thanks Milly, you have no idea."

"Anytime Meryl. Oh, and yes I do." After saying which, she darted an unenthusiastic glance over at the desk before hesitantly asking, "How's it coming?"

"Not well," her friend sighed gloomily. Without the typewriter, it was taking much longer because she had to fill out several copies of the same form by hand. It didn't seem like she was making any headway at all. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised to find that the papers were breeding voraciously before her very eyes. Once again, she bemoaned the fact that her typewriter was out of commission. The machine was able to take several forms at once and mark all the way through to the bottom, crisp and clear, without the use of carbon copy paper between the sheets. It was a new invention and Meryl was proud, in a quiet, gracious way of course as befits a trusted employee of the Bernadelli Insurance Society, about the fact that she was issued one before any other Risk Agent. She held the wild celebratory whooping for when she and Milly were alone with no one to overhear. It was an oddly disconcerting feeling to try and fill in the endless blanks on the all the papers without her trusty machine to help her.

Meryl took a cup of steaming coffee back to the desk and sank back in her chair with a slight groan. "This is going to take all day," she muttered dejectedly. "Without an actual sighting of Vash, we have to do all of this _normal_ work, and all of these forms are just piling up! I know it's too much to ask since it's been months since we've seen him, but will the paperwork ever end? I just want it to be done, so we can go back to how things used to be..."

Milly unbuttoned the cuffs at her wrist and began rolling up her sleeves. "Well then, we had better get to it, don't you think? So we can get back to looking for him?" She gave Meryl a bright smile, knowing that it always had a lifting effect on her, and it did this time too. The dispirited blank look on Meryl's face slowly transformed into a grateful smile.

"Right you are Milly. No monster pile of paper can defeat us for long!" Meryl swiveled her chair to face the desk and made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl.

It was going to be an interesting, and paradoxically, boring day all at the same time. Which only meant one thing: business as usual.

**Brilliant Ideas**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-14:00]**

Vash looked down at his left hand as it rested on the tabletop, palm up. Dispassionately, he flexed his fingers into a fist and then relaxed them. He did this several more times. He could feel the resistance in the joints, servo-motors, nerve-switches, and pseudo-flesh. It wouldn't be evident to anyone else that the reaction time was slowing, but he knew, he could tell. Once more his hand balled into a fist and relaxed. Very faintly, he heard the hesitation in the workings of flesh and metal.

There was no denying the delicate balance of his Plant body connected with the upgraded Lost Technology of the Doc's was beyond repair by ordinary means. He fingered the place where Knives' bullet had drilled a hole. It wasn't large, the arm was a wonder in and of itself, almost acting like flesh in that it could heal somewhat. This, however, was beyond the healing ability of the arm. He glanced down at his other arm. At times it felt like the nerve endings were on fire from the Seed within, but so much since his sister stabilized his erratic Plant body those months ago. She wouldn't tell him what she had done though, he thought resentfully, nor what was wrong with him to begin with. He toyed with finding other plants, but most of the outlying towns had only one plant, and the larger towns had been locked down pretty tightly since the Fifth Moon incident, as the planet was now calling it.

None of them would admit to knowing anything about the voice, even though they seemed to know something, they wouldn't share. Thanks sis! He needed another drink. Thinking that exercise for his prosthetic arm couldn't hurt, he reached for the neck of the bottle on the table next to him. Tipping it over his glass, all that came out were two small dribbles. Vash blinked. The bottle was empty already? With the exaggerated care of someone who knew they were drunk but believed others couldn't tell, Vash set the bottle down with a hollow thud.

He needed a new arm. In order to get one, he needed the Doc to give him a new arm. The Doc was unlikely to give him a new arm. How to get Doc to grant him this oh-so reasonable request then? He didn't think he would be remiss in assuming that his arrival at the colony ship where the Doc lived would be viewed with anything other than suspicion and hostility; and a good deal of firepower. Not the kind of homecoming for a prodigal son. He dropped his chin into his palm to think. He did know some ways of getting into the secret Seeds ship that was kept hidden. He could sneak in, convince the Doc to produce a new arm and then sneak out. Right.

With his chin still propped up. he cupped his fingers to absently rub the stubble on his cheek. It sounded like a simple enough plan, but he knew that 'simple enough' didn't always mean that things would go like they should. It all depended on luck, which in his experience usually meant 'rotten'.

Later, much, much later, Vash lifted his head off his crossed arms and looked about him, blinking blearily. What was he doing here? The scene wasn't unfamiliar and he knew where he was, he was in the saloon with his head on the bar. He just wondered why he was still there. Upon shooting a quick glance around, with an irritated grunt, he hastily wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. His forehead wrinkled as he tried to remember the last few hours. When nothing came to mind, he sighed and rubbed his face with a tired hand.

Something was niggling at his brain and then it came to him. Sometime during the evening he had formulated a brilliantly devious plan on how to force the Doc to give him a new arm. Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn't recall what the plan was. A deep frown furrowed his brow as he tried to recapture the idea, but it eluded him within the fog of the evening. With another clumsy shrug that nearly tipped him off his stool, the outlaw decided that all good plans were like, were like... dang, it was right on the tip of his tongue... Tomas? Women? Sandsteamers? They were bound to... Most likely to... He lowered his head into the palm of one hand and rubbed his temple and gave up trying to think altogether.

With a mumble that he hoped wasn't a cheery goodnight, the tall slender man pushed off from the bar and headed for the doors with only a slight stumble in his step. As soon as the night air hit his face, the idea of earlier came back to him with precise clarity. He snorted, disgusted with himself. There was nothing brilliant or devious about it at all. It was a tried and true method employed over the ages by one group that wanted something from another group that was in possession of a certain something and wouldn't surrender it without some form of coercion. That was the best he could come up with? He deserved to be mocked.

It wasn't a brilliant, devious, or even especially clever, but it was a plan and the only one that made sense. There weren't many other choices. He took a deep lungful of night air, feeling revitalized. So, it wasn't a great plan, still it could work and he knew how to make it work for him. A predatory grin edged across his lips and his eyes darted to the stables. Everything was right where he needed it to be. However, before he could implement it, he needed to go back and pack his few meager possessions.

But first, he thought to himself, he hoped it wasn't too late to catch up with one particular little insurance girl. That would help him feel a bit more like himself, and hopefully cure the hangover.

**End of the Workday**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-20:00]**

Meryl licked and closed the flap of the envelope. It was finally finished. They were up-to-date with their report... sort of. She looked down at the manilla paper holding their latest account of the search for Vash the Stampede, as well as a dozen follow ups on various accounts throughout the nearby region. A grimace fleetingly crossed her face before disappearing. There were a few... _discrepancies, _in the account about Vash. Knowing that it was needful to not include certain facts, and that there were out-and-out falsehoods throughout that left the shorter Risk Agent with a sour taste in her mouth. She was not cut out for this. Being a spy was not something she had ever considered as a dream job . For her, turning in honest facts on a freshly typed up page was a thing of beauty to behold. Sending this bastardized version in was, for her, like desecrating a national treasure. Her hands gripped the sides until she realized that it was threatening to crumple the envelope.

In order to keep moving in the Out, she had to lie that they were still following Vash. In truth, they hadn't found him at all. Facts were scrambled because they couldn't just come out and say that the legendary gunman was a _plant_ or that they had followed his brother for awhile because they thought Knives was the real deal... And they had to do normal work on paying out insurance claims and selling new insurance to people as they went just to keep moving from city to city in hopes of at least finding a trace of Vash, or his brother, or even the two bodyguards. For Milly's sake, Meryl never mentioned Wolfwood or Livio in any of the reports, she was afraid the big girl would break down in tears if she read their names. Since the incident and the subsequent change in Vash's appearance, there was little to go on in finding any of them. It was almost as if none of it had ever happened. And yet, it had, there was still a huge hole in the fifth moon.

Interrupting her thoughts, Milly walked out of the bathroom, brushing her teeth furiously, with foam covering her lips.

"Waff woo woofin, merrful?"

After all the time that the two agents had trained and traveled together, Meryl was now well-versed in the art of interpreting 'toothpaste-mouth' with ease. Looking down at the package her in hands, she said, with a sigh, "I'm going to take this down and stick it in the overnight slot. Then I am going to treat myself to an ice cream sundae."

"Mumpf, baff?"

"Of course they will be open, it's the only reputable place this town has that is also open this late. There should be a good crowd there but I hope I can get a stool at the counter." She looked over at her friend, "Wanna come? I'll treat."

"Uffmuh wefferm."

"Oh, okay, well make sure to tell your folks and all your relatives that I said 'hello'. " It was Monthly Milly time again and her friend was trying to get it finished so she could send it out the next day. "Want me to bring you back anything?"

"Famafa wowumuph wooffin?"

Tapping the edge of the envelope against her chin she answered Milly's question. "I really doubt that they have banana-coconut meringue pudding to go." Noting Milly's downcast expression even as she robustly continued with her dental hygiene, she added, "I will however, ask to make sure. How's that?"

"Fanffs!" Toothpaste foam squirted out and Meryl barely had time to hold up the envelope to shield her from the spray. "Ooophz!"

Meryl lowered the package and inspected the droplets, none of the handwriting was smeared. "No harm done Milly. See?" She held it up. Then, even though her mouth was full of white foam, Milly pulled out her brush and let a massive yawn take over. After giving Meryl a tired wave she stumbled back into the bathroom leaving the shorter agent to wonder if her friend was going to be able to finish her letters back home tonight after all.

With a grin, Meryl moved across the floor to the sounds of water and spitting coming from the bathroom. Now she felt a yawn coming on and tried to stifle it. Dangit all! They were so contagious. She hoped it didn't happen again, the last thing she wanted to do was yawn rudely in anyone's face while she was out in public.

**Reunited at Last**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-20:30]**

Vash had spent the time patiently, only occasionally tapping his foot until she showed up. He knew her habits and if this was one of the nights to mail something, she should be coming along shortly. There was always something that needed to be mailed in the evening, even something she affectionately grumbled over called a 'Milly Monthly Newsletter'. Now it was all a matter of waiting, but it paid off. She came out the door of the hotel with a spirited spring to her step. He followed her from a distance, remembering that she was getting better at sensing when she was being followed. He flowed silently from one pool of dark shadows to another, but unlike the other times, he made sure to make no sound that would alert her.

The slender, tall figure of the outlaw blended in with the shadow of the corner of the overhang of the blacksmith stables. He would wait for her here since she would come back this way on her return to the hotel.

It was easy to intercept her. She emerged from the post office and began to approach him. Her eyes were closed in a great yawn that she tried to cover with a small delicate hand. When she lowered her hand and opened her eyes, he was standing in her path. Meryl about came out of her skin. A hand flew to her throat as if to cut off a scream while startled gray eyes flew wide at the sight of him.

A grin played about his lips as he remarked, while jerking his chin in the direction of the overnight mail drop off, "You write about me so much," he said smirking, "I am flattered to have such a fan." He made a fist and tapped it gently over his chest, "I'm feeling it, right here. Really. I'm touched. "

Letting the silence between them fill with tension before he lowered his voice and whispered so that only she could hear, "So, been looking for me short girl?"

The diminutive insurance girl took a couple of calming breaths before she replied, "Not right at this moment, no."

It figured, it just bloody well figured. Talk about irony. After all the hard pursuing on their part, putting together and following the clues and sightings, seeking him at every turn, and now, to find him popping up in front of her like this, well it just wasn't fair. This was not how she envisioned meeting him. For pity's sake, they were the ones who were suppose to find _him_! He fled, they chased. Really, was that asking too much? She didn't think it so.

He took a step closer.

Meryl immediately snapped out a hand and held it up to halt his progress, as if that alone could and would hold him back. Surprising her, he did stop but only to peer down at her hand, amused eyes bouncing back and forth between her hand and her face.

"Stop right there buddy and I mean it!"

The silver-haired Plant lifted one cynical eyebrow. He looked her over again, eyes slowly flowing over her, lingering on the rise and fall of sweet curves, well what little he was able to see from under the cloak. Languidly he raised the yellow sunglasses to meet her anxious eyes, but not before noting the twin pink spots on her cheeks. An unhurried grin moved over his lips and he crossed his arms in front of him. A great black cat, smiling teasingly at her from the shadows.

"All right then, short girl. You have me shaking in my boots."

"Uhm... okay then. Good." Meryl was on the verge of babbling and knew it. Even as she said that, her eyes were taking him in. Most of him was still shrouded in darkness and danger. Unable to control herself, she took a step back. She desperately needed the distance.

The magnificently lithe form of the man in front of her took another step closer, gracefully easing out of the covering shadows behind him. Meryl's knees were trembling now and she couldn't be sure if it was from fear or some other foreign emotion. From the top of him, he gleamed of sparkling argent as the light of the two moons fell upon him and Meryl could swear that a being from old legends was standing in front of her. Then the effect was gone and then once more, he was a normal man, er Plant standing in front of her, eyeing her as if wondering about her sanity. That irked her to no end. She wasn't the one who had been glowing like a bloody nightlight!

For all the marking effect of the light, the shadows were reluctant to release their hold on him and his lower body was shrouded as if in a dark cape. Only here and there were little sparkles where the moons' rays nimbly left a feather touch before dancing down the rest of his cloaked body searching for anything to reflect their glow. The waterfall of light flowed swiftly over his broad shoulders, rushing down his toned and muscular chest then tapering down to a slim waist. Her eyes were glued to the effect and she was captivated by the descent like one charmed.

Next came the taut, flat abdomen, slim waist, cascading down to long, slender legs, the sinewy length of them tantalizingly glimpsed through the coat panel slits. She didn't even notice when a small puff of exasperation left her mouth. What she couldn't see of him appeared in her mind's eye, instantly supplying the missing sight. The ongoing but silent battle between the moon rays seeking to drench him in a mystical sheen of light and the lurking shadows lying in wait to drape about him, mesmerized her. The being of shadow and starlight was entrancing, mysterious, and beyond human ken. Then it ended, so suddenly that it took her breath away. Coming back to herself, she blinked, and then blinked again, to see standing before her was only a man, (Dammit, he's a Plant! Best to keep that in mind) wearing a black coat... with glittering, lustrous shiny argent hair. Okay, that last part wasn't normal, no matter what you were.

Vash cocked his head when he noticed her eyes dilate and widen in awe. He wondered what it was that she was seeing. Then, with a light shrug, he reached up and for the first time since arriving in that backwater town, he pulled his sunglasses off with one smooth motion. Shaded ruby eyes fixed unwaveringly on her face as he folded the ear pieces and then slid them into an inner pocket. The little female wasn't blinking and he was starting to get a little concerned, she was looking slightly moonstruck. Just then, she blinked and seemed to come back to herself. Instantly her eyes shot up to his face with an accusatory glare. He frowned, returning her reproachful look with one that clearly said, _"What now, woman?"_

There was no answer, not at first, for her thoughts were far from noticing his haughty attitude. At first glance he appeared to be overly skinny, lanky, all knees and elbows going in all directions. She knew the truth now. It was all an act, a pretense to keep a distance between him and other people. The man could move as silently as rain water evaporating in the heat of the day, more graceful and silent as a stalking cat. He wasn't normally clumsy or awkward. She had seen him without his concealing black coat, without those many faces he wore when he was unconscious from the fight with Knives. It all came back to her now, the awareness of his muscled and toned body, the sight of which she determinedly thrust aside the whole time he was with them. Her face was heating up and she could feel it. It took all her self-control to not cover her cheeks with her hands.

"What's the matter with you? Moons'struck?" He teased lightly, a grin creeping across his face.

Oh, he had no idea how close he was. Meryl tossed her head, the bangs on her brow flew up before settling back so that a few strands hung down in her eyes once more.

It was his turn to blink, the grin fading under the onslaught of a rage and ruin of emotions that were unfamiliar to him yet drawing him, pushing him to get closer to her. He ruthlessly crushed down the urge to snatch her up. Did she realize how adorable she looked right then? Did he just use the word adorable? He reigned everything within himself with tight self-control, not allowing a twitch to show anywhere, not until he was master of himself again.

Meryl lifted her chin, "No I am not. I am just not used to being accosted. So, if you please, I will be going now." Hesitation shone in her eyes, "However, if you wish, we can meet tomorrow..." Straightening her shoulders with a show of courage she didn't feel, "In fact, I insist upon it as you are our charge."

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing, "Well, I don't '_if you please'_, and I don't '_wish'_, and what I insist upon is 'right now'. What do you think about that, Miss all-forms-typed-in-triplicate?"

One hand landed on her hip, out came the finger, and she leaned in toward him with a delicate wrinkle gracing her brow. "Now see here you ingrate! First of all, I am trying to keep you from getting hurt or killed, which of course I know means absolutely nothing to you, but the fact is, that you are still a Level One threat in some regions, while others have orders to kill you on sight. Some of these are lifted, thanks to our intervention. However, there are still just as many places where the bounties were still in effect. But you don't care about that, do you now!"

"Damn girl, watch where you point that thing, you could hurt someone."

"Eh?" Puzzled, Meryl pulled her finger in to quizzically study it for a second. What was he talking about? Then she went completely red upon hearing his ringing laughter.

"You're so literal!"

"Oh yeah! Well, you're... you're... uh," Sand shards, was he smirking at her! Yes, yes, he was! Insufferable man! "Well, for your information, you are... " Her mind went blank. "You reek of... well, uh, you are so... Uhm, Oh, I know, you... you are overly... TALL!" Meryl slapped a hand over her eyes as Vash threw his head back and laughed even harder than before, shoulders shaking with mirth.

"Stop, please, you're killing me," he gasped out.

In a fit of temper, Meryl crossed her arms in front of her with a growing frown. No, she wasn't pouting, Risk Agents do not pout. All that she was doing was demonstrating a very mature reaction to his childish behavior, thank you very much. Waiting until she was sure that her voice wouldn't squeak, she informed him, "We had expected to catch up with you sooner," as she raised gray eyes to peer up at him uncertainly, "This is a bit of a surprise." No truer words could be spoken.

"I see the problem here." He waggled a down-pointed finger. "This little scenario isn't going along with your formulated, rigid little plans, is it?" It was more of a statement than a question. "So little Miss Insurance Agent, what are you going to do now?" He smiled at her playfully.

Catching her bottom lip with her small white teeth, she worried it as she hurriedly thought. What would she do? Better yet, what could she do? Other than that, she didn't appreciate being made fun of when she was being serious. Out came her finger again to point up at his nose.

"Listen buster, you know we were sent to put you away for good," she felt a gleam of satisfaction when a frown appeared, finally, he was taking her seriously. "But we didn't. At the very least we are to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't lay waste to any more property..."

He took a step forward. Words failed her. Eyeing him suspiciously, she cleared her throat and continued, "Furthermore, there are some things you may be unaware of..."

He took another step. Meryl's eyes darted to the side, weighing her chances of escape. Maybe it would be safer on the other side of the street. Then she chided herself, wasn't finding the infamous outlaw the whole point of the pursuit? This wasn't how the whole 'finding and apprehending the big bad outlaw' plan was suppose to play out. It would figure he would throw a wrench in the works! Again she caught her lip between her teeth and nibbled it thoughtfully. The only activity on the other side of the street were the saloons and brothels doing a brisk trade for the evening. The raucous noise and light spilled out briefly every time the doors were opened, but no one took notice of the woman and man standing within hailing distance. Deciding that caution was indeed the better part of valor, Meryl took, what she hoped was, an unnoticed step closer to the street.

"You seem a little tense tonight."

"No, no, just a little tired. I need to go to bed."

"Is that an invite?"

"Huh? Wha..." Understanding flooded her when he wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion, "Ewww! NO! Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're not afraid of me are you?" His mouth twitched smugly.

"N-n-o, of course not! Where do you get these ideas anyway?" Meryl snarled inwardly at her telltale stutter. Where was the in-control-and-I-know-it facade that she so needed right now? No matter how one looked at it, a stammer was not an indication of bravery. It couldn't have come at a worse time. Then an idea popped into her head, "I just don't want to be manhandled again." She nodded. That sounded good.

She looked him over, despite being nervous, she could tell something was a little different about him, and that also bothered her. How could she tell without definable, tangible proof of such a change? Was it in his easy stance, slouching there with a touch of cavalier grace, catching her attention and drawing her? And pulling at her it was. Something within wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them. At the moment Meryl could feel that indescribable something within her wanting to respond to the latent masculinity that was tugging at her. It was a fight to lean away and keep the established space between them intact as the brusque, in-charge agent side of her warned her to maintain that healthy distance. What was it? It really was bothering her. There was something (there was that word again and she hated being so imprecise) in his face, his expression, the way he looked at her with those daring, penetrating glances? She resisted the urge to fan herself.

Meryl eyed him intently, so witnessed the moment when the playful demeanor was dropped. On it's heel came a hard, cold-eyed expression causing her to cringe. Crossing his arms in front of him, he stared at her in the manner of a buyer looking over a toma he was thinking of purchasing. Something in Meryl told her that there couldn't be a better time to leave than right then, preferably at a dead run, but her feet refused to move. Looking down at her feet to see if they were suddenly turned to stone without her being aware, she was appalled to find she couldn't move them, no matter how hard she willed it. They were planted firmly in place, she wasn't going anywhere.

Furious, she snapped her eyes back up to his face and glared at the outlaw. "You did something, didn't you?"

An infuriating smirk crept across his lips, one that made her hand itch to slap it off.

"We will have plenty to catch up on old times later, but for now, we need to get going."

"Huh?" Was he insinuating that he was ready to turn himself in? That went against what she knew of him.

Chuckling at her expression and what he knew was going through her mind, "No, I have some business to take care of first and you are going to help me."

Every sense on alert now, she stated, "Now see here Mr. Stampede..." The raven-haired agent never got the chance to finish her thought.

Blurred movement crossed her retinas, all black edges and quicksilver shapes, so rapidly her brain couldn't connect the images together to make sense of what was happening. The next moment she felt a hard-muscled arm loop around her tiny waist and sweep her up off her feet. In the next instant, Meryl descended into blissful, numbing nothingness.

Vash gazed down at the petite form in his arms, she was so light, hardly weighing anything, as if there was nothing substantial to her at all. The light of the moons fell across her face, accentuating the long dark lashes that were sooty smudges under her closed eyes. His eyes followed the tapered brows winging up on her brow like elegant script wherein was writ all her emotions. A long-extinct emotion caused a sharp twinge in his chest. It was a sweet pain, so piercingly pure and pleasant even as it twisted so hard it caused him to catch his breath. Even if he didn't know what this was, he knew she was the cause of it.

Unconsciously he tightened his grip on her, pulling her in to his chest protectively even as she rested in a dreamless state, unaware of anything around her. There was no defense against this elusive emotion. It was strong beyond belief and already his entire outlook, his world was being turned on its head.

Like a drowning man desperately latching onto a lifesaver, his crimson eyes riveted to her face before stroking down her slight form only to return to her delicate features. That same sensation was elusive, yet strong and not to be denied. A confused, cloudy look passed over his face as he stared down at what he knew was a truth, his truth for right then, for all time to come. This frail human he cradled in his arms, was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Hissing at that thought, he scrunched his eyes shut. Wait just a minute now. This couldn't be happening to him. She was... beautiful? Reluctantly, he opened his eyes again to trace over the smooth skin of her face, the thick, black hair, and the curves and arches of her tiny body. Yes indeed. She was; and he was doomed.

Before this, he thought her somewhat attractive, but now however, this delicate vessel was able to be fiery and loud, petite and gentle but filled with determination that was bigger than she. She was starlight combined with a blazing nova temper... she was... for him. His brow wrinkled at the complexity of emotion within him, when did all this happen? When did he begin to feel that he needed her like seeds need water? Coming to the fore was not only the desire to protect her, but to attach himself to her and her to him. Vash was left in the wake of this feeling baffled by the intensity of emotion released from the depths of his being. It wasn't just lust, though there was that in the mix, for he recognized that when he felt it, but this, this was setting all his nerves on fire. His head felt light, his chest constricted by these nameless emotions that were seemingly conspiring against him to bring him to his knees with the paradox, he was weak and strong at the same time. He really didn't want this.

"What are you doing to me?" Came the anguished whisper as he stared frantically into her face.

Not waiting, he pulled his thoughts back to the mission and the things that needed to be done. He turned and started for the stables, gently, but possessively, carrying his newfound treasure with him. His shadowy, slender figure walked in and out of the light of the pooled at the feet of the streetlamps.


	32. CH 31 Letters to Home

**__**_Merry Christmas everyone! (or any other holiday you might celebrate!) We hope you're having a great season, and to celebrate, here's a bit of a fluff chapter we 'give' to you as a present. Thank you again to all of our fans, new and old! Please leave your comments, we love to hear your opinions! Enjoy! -Milly_

**Chapter 31**

**Letters to Home**

**[Stardate: 5-24-0111-22:30]**

'Dear Father, Mother, Big Big Brother, Middle Big Brother, Little Big Brother, Big Big Sister, Middle Big Sister, Little Big Sister...' Milly paused in her writing, wondering what was taking Meryl so long. Normally her trips to the post office didn't take a few hours. But then again, she mused, maybe Meryl had gone out of her way to look for some pudding for her. That would be a welcomed reason for being late. There were a few specialty shops at the edge of town that were open twenty-four hours for travelers, so perhaps that's where she went.

Milly pondered this for another moment before continuing with her letter. 'How are you? I am fine...' She paused. _Actually,_ she thought to herself, _I__'__m__not__fine._ _I__'__m__not__fine__at__all,__in__fact,__I__'__ve__been__pretty__damn__miserable__since__the__whole__church__incident__when__Mr.__Priest__and__Mr.__Livio__disappeared__with__Mr.__Knives._ Milly set down her pen and went over to stand at the window. The street below was mostly deserted but for a few drunks sitting out on the porch of a neighboring saloon. They were toasting to the moon or maybe to the air, having a good time.

It wasn't so long ago when she and her friends had gone drinking together. Milly was a lightweight for being such a big girl, but she still liked to drink. She'd get drunk fast, but most of the time she'd sober up just as fast, and would end up carrying Meryl back to their tent when they were traveling with Mr. Knives and his two bodyguards. _Those__were__good__times,__why__can__'__t__we__go__back__to__those__times?_ Milly sighed, seeing no sign of Meryl and went back to her letter.

'We are no longer following Mr. Vash the Stampede,' Milly continued to write, 'When we first set out on our journey it was to babysit the Humanoid Typhoon and make sure he didn't get into any big trouble. But the guy we thought was him turned out to be his twin brother, and then we found out that guy was not the guy, it was the first guy. After the hole in the fifth moon appeared and the town of Jeneora Rock was destroyed, we haven't been able to find either Vash. There is, however, a strange looking fellow who sounds like the first Vash - not the brother we _thought_ was Vash - but he looks differently: has silvery-white hair and the most piercing red eyes. Not like the eyes on Uncle Roger when he's had too much Whiskey, I'm talking red like the albino Toma that was born on the farm and then died after too much sun exposure. But this Vash isn't like how he used to be, he's a pretty nice guy, and I'm pretty sure he has the sweets for Meryl...'

Milly leaned her head on her hand, come to think of it; they hadn't seen much of that fellow since they'd found him in the rubble. Although, she was pretty sure he was still following them. From time to time she'd catch a glimpse of that silvery-white spikey hair. Or maybe it was just an old fellow, she wasn't quite sure.

'The two bodyguards who watched the Vash who wasn't Vash, haven't shown up again either. I liked them a lot. Actually, I may have liked one of them more than _like._ But the other, he was kind of like Big Big Brother, and I liked that about him. I know, Mother, that you've told me God will bring me someone like He did Father, but I wonder if I missed my chance because we were following Mr. Vash and Mr. Vash's brother. I miss them terribly, just like I miss all of you.

'Meryl says that if we don't find any of the Vashs or the people we met along the way, we will probably return home in a matter of a few months. We're already headed back, although rather slowly since Meryl has started to do Bernadelli work again in order to get a steady paycheck. I think that the weird goings-on before Jeneora Rock was destroyed are now over. It was almost as if the strange disappearances never happened. Everyone wondered why we had not reported in, although Meryl was very tidy about doing it once a month. Since then, Meryl sees no harm in selling an insurance policy or two while we travel. It's giving us some pretty nice commissions so I should have enough money saved up by Christmas to buy everyone something.'

Pausing, Milly set down her pen. There was noise coming from outside. Was it Meryl coming back? She lifted from her seat and went to the window again. The two drunkards were now fighting. She couldn't see them very well, but from the light of the saloon she could see they were pretty big guys. They were taking their punches in stride, but the argument was getting pretty loud. People were coming out from the saloon, peering out of windows down the street and a few people on tomas had stopped to watch the fight.

Interested in something other than her letter, Milly opened the window and gasped. Below, the two voices were _very_ familiar, although she hadn't heard them in months.

"Stop calling me Crybaby!"

"Well, what's running down your face then? Man up, or I'll call ya Crybaby all I like!" The slightly shorter man with dark hair ducked a punch from the taller man and ran into him. He carried Livio off the porch and into the street.

Milly's heart was pounding. _No__way!__It__can__'__t__be__them!__But__I__think__it__is!_ She rushed from the window and grabbed her coat, throwing it on over her pajamas. Not stopping to put her shoes on, she ran out of the hotel and down the two flights of stairs and out into the street, pigtails flying behind her. "Stop it! Stop it right now you two!" She ran across the dirt road, feeling rocks digging into her bare feet, and she threw herself between the two men as they were picking themselves up from the road.

The two drunk men started for each other, almost not realizing she was there, but then suddenly stopping, blinking. "Am I seeing what I'm thinking I'm seeing? _Big__Girl?_"

"Mr. Priest!" Milly's eyes filled with tears and she flung herself at him. Wrapping him in her arms she started to sob, "Oh Nicholas! I missed you!" Then, before he could gain his composure, she turned on a heel and said, "And Mr. Livio! I thought you were both dead!" And she hugged him too. He had a moment to put an arm around her but then she pulled away, formed a fist and slugged him. It was almost a blur as she spun around one more time, and hit Wolfwood in the jaw too.

"How dare you disappear for six months and not write even a short letter?" She gritted her teeth as she realized that her fist _really_ hurt but neither man seemed more than startled that she'd hit them.

Livio blinked, suddenly sober, and looked at Nicholas who was rubbing his jaw, not out of pain but out of curiosity. "I'm sorry, Big Girl, but we didn't know where ya went. How could we send a letter?"

Milly put her hands on her hips, started to open her mouth to reply, then stopped and pursed her lips. "Well, you _could_ have tried to find us. Left a note somewhere...I'm not sure, but we thought you were dead! Do you know how hard it is to go on when your best friends have gone missing?" The tears were still glistening in her eyes and Wolfwood leaned over and wiped a stray drop from her cheek.

"Well, we found you now, right?" He smiled that slow smile she hadn't been able to get out of her mind for months. Wolfwood looked at his partner and Livio nodded in return.

"We were searching for our Master. We haven't found him either."

The tall insurance girl sniffed, feeling cold suddenly, "Did he...?"

"No, we don't think so. Dr. Conrad is gone too. We didn't find any bodies." Wolfwood pulled a cigarette from his coat and lit it. After dragging on it for a moment, he sighed. "We think he's gone into hiding with the rest of the Eye of Michael." Pulling on the cigarette once more, he tossed it to the ground, putting it out, he noticed Milly's bare feet. "Big Girl, where are your shoes?"

Milly realized her feet were steadily getting cold and she was pretty sure she'd stepped on something pretty sharp. She looked sheepish and said, "In the hotel room. I was kind of in a hurry when I saw you... Will you come up with me?" Suddenly she found herself lifted up into Livio's arms.

"You shouldn't be walking in the street, there's broken glass," he said to her simply. "Point out the way."

Wolfwood followed them up to the hotel room, where Milly rinsed off her feet in the bathroom before putting on a pair of fuzzy bunny rabbit slippers. When she returned to the main room, it had gotten fairly late. "Where's the little one?" Nicholas was sitting at a single chair in the corner, and Livio was camped out on the floor.

"She went out to the post office, but she offered to bring me back dessert...I'm not sure where she went. But she'll be okay, I'm pretty sure."

Nicholas nodded, "I guess we'll just have ta stay with ya until she gets back, eh?"

Milly smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

**In the Stables**

**[Stardate: 5-25-0111-05:30]**

Ah, the subject of _her._ He looked over at her sleeping form again. She was exhausted after the chase and capture of the night before. Turning away, Vash eyed the doorknob and the construction of the doorframe with an expert eye, it was apparent to him that it was made in such a manner that an ordinary human couldn't easily break out if one had a mind to; if it was locked, which it wasn't. It was quiet here, an older style barn converted into a warehouse of sorts.

Eyes that glowed softly in the dim light turned to rest on the sleeping woman as he finally admitted the deepest truth he had been wrestling with for a long time now; this wasn't just wanting or desire, this was so much more and every fiber of his being screamed it at him. It was time to look the realization in the face and acknowledge it even if she refused. Yes, even if the raven-haired she-devil denied it, she was _his_ female and if the little agent tried to go anywhere it would be with him, even if it was kicking and screaming. Reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose, the handsome male gave a soft snort of bemusement at the situation. Here he was, the most feared being on the planet waiting on what should be an inferior human, to wake up.

"I am way too courteous for my own good," he muttered quietly.

In a way, the spike-haired man was grateful for the time to be able to come to terms with these new feelings racing through him. Before last night, he only thought of her as an amusement that he would enjoy one of these days soon too aware of his aroused reaction every time he was around her.

Reaching up with careful fingers he gingerly touched the knot on the side of his head. The headache he awoke with that morning was already fading and the knot was healing. Not sure if it would work or not, he'd tried a small trick to put a plant to sleep, and it had made the girl drowsy enough to carry her here, to this barn. However, the moment he set her down again, the effect wore off and she had swung the first object she could find at his head, which happened to be a fairly heavy shovel placed up against the wall. Pesky female. He had to use his mojo again, only with a LOT more force this time, to keep her from tearing him to shreds, but in the process knocked her out overnight.

Rubbing his nose again, he pondered the long age spent traveling over the burning sands of this cursed planet, harboring a dark bitter hatred for all humans. Now, new feelings were rising, tender, protective, ones he hadn't felt in so many decades it was near crippling him and he didn't know what to do with them.

Giving his head a jerk that sent silver spikes dancing, he turned slowly in place to once again study the barn. It was different, if only marginally, than last night's flea-infested dive of a saloon; which, he smirked, was where he had seen her from the window, him plying his usual hobby of trying to fill and numb the bleeding abyss in his soul. Etched in his own mind was the remarkable sight as she leaned over to deposit letters into the post office slot, shapely hips forming a heart shape with her cape as he watched in fascination. He slowed his drinking to sipping the rotgut to watch her turn in search of an open store, her hair swirling around her pink cheeks. Glorious. Then a racing shock of insight held him with glass half raised when he realized all he wanted to do at that moment was to gently cup her cheeks in his hands and kiss the tip of her nose. Where had _that_ come from? That was when he made the decision. One way or another he would have her, forever and not just a one-night stand to walk away from the next morning either.

Still reeling and somewhat dismayed by alien feelings, he did what any lewd, immoral, degenerate would do and ran an appreciative eye up and down her lovely legs. This was familiar territory and soon he was outside and ready to reach out and grab her around the waist and pull the ranting female into his arms. Then… the voice. Oh yes, that alternate broke in and turned his thoughts in a different direction. Have her, yes, take her yes, but WOO her? Woo? He. Did. Not. Woo. If he wanted women, he got them, there was no "wooing" involved! Yet, the voice won out. If there was anything he should be concerned about, it was that. That unknown entity was getting stronger and stronger as time went by and would need to be dealt with, he just wasn't sure how at this point in time.

The tall lean man turned back to a considering eye on Meryl. This was too uncomfortable, like trying to get used to an ill-fitting garment as. Vash grit his teeth as an emotion of obligation rose up; as if he owed her something! Her death could have come about so easily last night, he could have lost his temper... and pulled up at where the thought was going. Silver brows pulled together in a knot and a disbelieving snort issued through tight lips with the comprehension dawning on him. There had only been one other human he'd ever felt such a strong affinity to, and she was long dead. Was this….? A deep scowl formed, no, he couldn't even admit that word to himself.

This is what she had brought him to! Thankfully, the petite female was totally ignorant of her effect upon him. He looked at her recumbent form while trying to decide how he felt about this newest observation and what course of action to take, if any. The thought that anyone, especially this mere slip of a girl was able to elicit such a profound and indecipherable emotion from him was bothersome to say the least.

Vash once again turned his attention back to the door and considered taking her to a more secluded location. Yet, something held him back. Abashed, another new and unwelcome emotion flooding him, he glanced down at his bare feet then over at his boots, duster, hostler, and shirt where he'd laid them on a chair. No point in not staying comfortable since now he doubted his scheme of the previous evening would come to pass. Something else was starting to percolate up from some unfathomable place he couldn't access.

"Stuipd alien voice! Give it a rest St. Who-ever-you-are!" He raged internally at insistent _voice_-_thing_ within.

Hearing a soft sigh his head snapped back around to the sleeping form of the woman on the sofa. He knew she would be waking up shortly. Again he gritted his teeth remembering when he had laid her down and the thought flashed through his head to strip her while she slept. For some stranger than strange reason, all he did was unclasp and remove her white cape. The white cape still loaded with the derringers. Otherwise, she was fully dressed in a white waist-length sleeveless top with a double row of buttons starting at a mandarin collar down to within inches of the hem. Then a snug pair of black pants; he'd considered taking off her shoes but he realized in the process she wasn't wearing and decided to leave them on.

Wondering over these fresh, (not to mention disgustingly respectable and decent) changes, the gunman's eyes wandered up her slim legs over the gentle slope of her hip and soft sweeping curve of her waist. It was an enticing sight and with a half smirk, he debated on whether it would be worth it to wake her up instead of waiting. With a flash of amusement, a slow smile stretched over his lips as he leaned a shoulder against the wall next to the door to study the sight before him. Knowing eyes lingered over every lovely and exquisitely curved portion of her body, crimson eyes glowed a deep _blue_, gleaming in the dim light as he contemplated the temptations coming to mind. The effect lasted all of a second and then the color returned to brilliant tomato red again.

His gaze had just traced over the elfin-like features, delicately and beguilingly attractive when dazed eyes fluttered opened, a small pucker of confusion formed between her brows. Right now they were the color of mist on those rare mornings after a rainstorm and slightly hazy with sleep. He watched her blink a few times before running a slender hand through the tousled locks framing her face and dangling in her eyes. She pushed ineffectually at the bangs for they fell back into place again once she dropped her hand.

He watched with interest as she blinked, then yawned with arms reaching over her head, straightening both legs and arms out in a delicious stretch. A small satisfied sound purred from her lips and Vash froze in place, he couldn't move if he had wanted. Her spine arched, and his eyes slipped lower, unable to stop staring at her torso where the fabric of her short tunic was pulled tight with the strain. The stretch continued until both legs were extended and feet flexed, toes pointing before relaxing. The being known as the Humanoid Typhoon realized his mouth was dry while also becoming aware that a fast rhythm was pounding through the veins in his throat, and that wasn't the only effect. Gaining control, he calmed his breathing but it was all the silver-haired man could do to keep from leaping across the room and pouncing on her. Vash had definitely had his share of more buxom and voluptuous women, but there was something about this one, with tiny, perfect proportions that fascinated him and he just flat out wanted her in a way he hadn't wanted any woman in the past. Despite the fact he wasn't human, the Plant never had to work to get women into his bed; they came to him with such ease that made other men cry tears of envy in their beer.

Spearing her with narrowed eyes, he knew there was no doubt about it; she was affected by him yet trying to keep distance from him with a wall of the professional insurance agent. With narrowed eyes he determined that the wall was going to have to come down, and soon.

Next Meryl lifted a fist and rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes. It was becoming clear that nothing in the room looked familiar to her. Her eyebrows lowered in a slight frown as her eyes wandered over the room until at last they came to rest on him. It was satisfying to see them widen in surprise and then flare that lovely silver-lavender color when she was overcome with emotion, as she appeared to be at this moment. He cocked his head at the relief sweeping over her features upon seeing him.

Meryl gave him a delighted smile, "Oh good, I thought for a moment..." she came to a screeching halt. At first sight she was overjoyed to see that he appeared to be none the worse for wear after that blow to the head. However, the expression meeting her gaze was something else altogether. On previous other occasions she had seen glimpses of this look, only before this it had been veiled and held in check. Now the unbridled look was aimed at her with no attempt made to disguise it.

Meryl stared at him, anxiety mounting at the smoldering fire in his eyes that were fixed on her along with crooked, half grin on his face. Casually, as if he hadn't a care in the world leaning there with arms crossed over his chest, he stared so hard at her it felt like two weights slamming into her.

_Whatever__was__he__do...__oh_, as she saw his eyes languidly dip south before slowly moving back up to her face. It was clear that he was enjoying the journey along the way. At her self-conscious shifting on the sofa he gave her a mischievous grin.

Pensively now, while keeping a wary eye on him she eyed the distance from her position to the door and from him to the door, a door, incidentally that she didn't remember coming through. She wondered if they were in his room but after a brief glance again at the décor, doubted it as nothing seemed to fit with his personality.

Out of the corner of her eye, she studied him before turning back to contemplate the door again. The disturbing thing was that he was positioned so he could easily reach in a stride or two and it sure didn't seem to her that he was going to be moving anytime soon.

Intuitively, she knew he wasn't going to just let her scoot out the door all on her lonesome. There was something in that fierce gaze hinting at hungry possessiveness. Where in the world was all of this coming from and why was he looking at _her_like that? _This__isn__'__t__happening,__I__am__not__worth__looking__at__this__way,__I__haven__'__t__even,__not__once,__been__on__a__date!__And__that__time__when__my__cousin__fixed__me__up__on__a__blind__date__doesn__'__t__count!__If__he__knew__that__he__wouldn__'__t__be__staring__at__me__like__I__am__the__last__grain__of__corn__in__a__shed__full__of__ravenous__chickens!__And__good__Lord,__why__is__he__halfway__undressed!__Wait__a__minute,__where__am__I?__Why__am__I__here?_

Looking down she noticed she was sitting on an old, overstuffed sofa. Her nose twitched, it also smelled as if it had been there for a long time. Swinging her legs to the floor Meryl slowly stood while taking stock of her surroundings, ignoring the intensity of the stare focused on her.

They were in a…. a barn? Except there were no animals just many pieces of heavy, dark furniture were crammed into it from one end to the other. A body couldn't take more than three steps between one piece and another. At the far end was one small grime-smudged window barely allowing in any light. She studied it carefully wondering if she could find something hard enough with which to break the glass.

"Forget it; it's too small even for you to climb through." No need to tell her that the door was unlocked, not just yet anyway. Why ruin the fun? It amused him to no end that she assumed it was locked.

She didn't bother to look at him. Insufferable creep, did she ask for his opinion?

The barn looked more like it was being used to store old furniture from faded days of glory, not nice enough to use anymore, but most of it (with the exception of her sofa) too good to throw away. If she had to guess, from the slope of the ceiling and the beams that were visible, she would say that this was just an extra room being used as a storeroom for a rich family. Following that line of thought she would assume they were in the back of an old stable or barn. All she had to do was find more clues. Looking around at the thick layer of dust there was no doubt in her mind she would find something underneath the grunge, maybe an old receipt or letter with an address on it.

Seeing her eyes roam over the room, taking in the dust and articles of years gone by, he remarked, "It's seen better days."

"So have I," the insurance girl muttered quietly to herself. She huffed when upon seeing the lopsided grin on his face, knew he had heard her.

"The ears of a bat, that one!" Unable to stop herself she looked again and he winked at her. "It's unnatural that's what it is!" She grumbled under her breath.

"I heard that too."

"Would it kill you to _not_ listen!" Meryl fumed, fists on hips, eyes snapping silver and lavender sparks but quickly backing off when she realized his eyes slipped down to her lips and were latched onto the sight of them. Unnerved, she denied him the view by spinning on her booted heel to present her back to him and began scanning the room once again.

"This angle's just as nice."

"You are insufferable!" She said sharply over her shoulder, and then tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her backside to concentrate on the matter at hand. Ignoring was a losing battle with this one but she kept trying anyway.

Everything was covered in dust and her eyes snapped back to the sofa she had been sleeping on. It was the only thing so far that was not covered in a thick layer of old grime. By rights it should have at least one layer on it, but it was clean. As if, she thought, tilting her head before reaching down to run a finger over the stuffed cushion to verify her theory that it was, indeed, clean. She noticed that the farther a piece of furniture was from the door, the more dust had accumulate on it. Yet this one was situated about halfway in the room as if placed in this spot for someone to sleep on. Like her. One of them, at least, had been expected. Finally, she turned her eyes back to the only other person in the room with her.

"Where are we?" She asked, the accusation heavy in her tone as she eyed him distrustfully. "You did something to me and if you're kidnapping me again to get back at your brother, it's not a very smart plan because I haven't seen Knives in months..."

Annoyance flashed through him by the fact that she was coming to the wrong impression. He curtly pointed out, "No Knives is not a part of this!" He gritted his teeth, (why did everything always have to be about Knives!)

Meryl shook her head and then lifting hands to her hair she tried in vain to comb out her tangles with her fingers. Absently she replied not thinking about her answer, "Well, if this isn't about him, what is it about then? If it's about money, Bernadelli won't pay any ransom just for me. So I am at a loss as to what you… could… do…" Given the nature of the Plant before her, maybe this wasn't such a good line to pursue. "Yes, right," she cleared her throat before continuing, "Let's try this from another angle. We were on the street…" She stopped upon seeing his shake his head. "YOU KIDNAPPED ME!" As she glared at him, a slow, seductive smile formed on his lips.

The tall gunslinger hadn't moved but Meryl suddenly felt his male presence as distinctly as if he were within arm's reach. She only meant to glance at him but then his eyes caught hers and wouldn't release them. He was still in the same stance, but those blue-tinged eyes were locked on her, forging an intimate connection between them until she was aware of nothing else in the room, only him, and the fact that her knees were suddenly ready to give out from under her.

If there had been a blanket on the sofa she would have been tempted to snatch it up and wrap it around herself as protection from the pressure hemming her in from every side. She couldn't believe he was the source of it, an overwhelming raw sensuality flaring out from him to spring on her, the pressure holding her firmly in place.

If there had been a blanket on the sofa the insurance agent would have been tempted to snatch it up and wrap it around herself for protection from the pressure hemming her in from every side. She couldn't believe _he_ was the source of it, an overwhelming raw sensuality flaring out from him and the pressure was holding her firmly in place.

That's when Meryl noticed, in a very disturbingly new and tingly way she might add, that he was only wearing the chaps that he wore under his black great coat. For the first time she took in and appreciated, (_for__shame__Meryl_!) how snugly that leather garment fit his slim narrow hips. Underneath she caught glimpses of tight-fitting jeans hugging his thin waist. She swallowed nervously.

With a surge of panic she broke eye contact to look down and check herself. She could have sagged with relief to find all herself totally clothed with only her cape was missing.

"And what makes you think you wouldn't want to come with me?"

Meryl looked up in surprise at the tone in his voice. Did he sound… irked, miffed even, just now? That thought vanished immediately as she saw with rising irritation the impish light flash through his vermilion-colored eyes.

With amusement Vash watched Meryl go into her hands on hips, 'fighting position' as the plucky girl laid into him with all the reasons why. There were a truckload and none of them were new, well, except for the last one on the list.

One silver eyebrow rose as he responded, "I don't snore. Want me to prove it to you?" His eyes twinkled merrily at her indignant blush. Then speaking in a voice full of enticing seduction that still managed to carry his soft words across the room to her, "I can think of a place, want to know where?" Eyes dark now with sensuality and hinting at things she couldn't begin to guess at, a slow knowing smile crossed his attractive features.

"NO!" Avoiding looking him straight in the eye she lowered her gaze to his chest thinking that a safe place to rest her eyes. That's when she noticed the few huge scars on his chest. She stared at the multiple old wounds cutting deep into the perfect musculature of his chest and smooth taut muscles of his abdomen. From the looks of them, any one of them could have easily been a fatal wound. The fact that he survived them spoke much for his ability to endure hardship beyond belief, either that or he had the devil's own luck. This was the first time she had seen the sight of his bared torso, more often were the times she had seen him in that dark blue shirt with the fabric stretched skin-tight across his muscles revealing how very fit he was. However, it rang familiar with Knives' torso, the same scars of dozens of fights. Vash's looked older though, faded, like maybe when he learned to fight back? When he became evil? It was pretty sexy though... _Stop__it__Meryl,__pretty__soon__you__will__be__slobbering__if__you__don__'__t__control__yourself!_ It was useless however; she couldn't stop her eyes from following the slender lines of the tight muscles of his well-formed physique.

Fascinated, she became aware of how perfect his body was: broad at the shoulders, the awesome breadth of his chest, a wiry torso, all tapering down to a slim waist, flat, hard stomach, and lean hips. Despite the scars, or maybe because of them, she had to acknowledge that the man standing in front of her was definitely Drool Material. Suddenly she became aware of where her gaze was sinking and she raised it with a jerk to meet his mocking, knowing smile along with that strange, predatory gleam in his eye.

"Like what you see?" He mocked with a tilt of his head.

The heat rose up her neck bringing a furious blush to her cheeks; she felt hot enough to fry a toma egg. She would have fanned herself but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had flustered her. Why was she staring like a schoolgirl in heat? Unfortunately she knew the answer to that and clamping her teeth as tight as she could while placing a nonchalant smile across her lips. There was an explanation of course and it was the fact that he was as handsome as a Greek statue come to life and for whatever reason, he was centering attention on her. _Ha,__if__there__was__a__flirty,__big-bosomed__barmaid__with__a__tray__of__cold__beers__anywhere__in__the__vicinity__he__wouldn__'__t__even__know__I__existed.__He__'__s__just__doing__this__to__make__fun__of__me._Instead she gave him her sharpest glare but he didn't seem the least bit intimidated by it. In fact, his reaction was one of amusement. She huffed and turned her head away. It was best not to let him think that she was being affected by him.

In the past she had not let herself actively notice him for she knew, instinctively, this gorgeous hunk of man would be too much of a distraction. And the last thing she needed in her life right now were distractions, especially those of the incredibly, unbelievably magnificently virile _evil_ variety, such as was lounging against the wall across what was suddenly turning out to her, to be a very close, small room. She could have groaned; didn't they have any ventilation in this place? Were the walls actually shrinking?

Instead, Meryl forced her thoughts back to planning a way to make a gracious yet hasty exit. She eyed the door next to him. His full attention was zeroed in on her and it was making her twitchy, as if a million miniature ants were crawling all over her just under the surface of her skin. _Please__God,__don__'__t__let__it__be__locked._

Suddenly, he shoved off from the wall and disappeared one second and appeared the next to stand in the middle of the room between her and the door, it was such a fast blur of motion Meryl totally missed it. She had seen some extraordinary things the two Plants had accomplished in the past so tried to keep the amazement off her face as if people vanished and appeared like that every day of the week was old hat to her. Instead she tried to focus on something more mundane.

Gesturing at his scars with a slender hand she said, "You were lucky to have survived those..." Meryl trailed off thinking how inane her remark sounded. _Stupid,__stupid,__couldn__'__t__you__think__of__something__more__intelligent__to__say__than__that?__He__'__s__going__to__think__you__are__a__complete__idiot!_

A chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest as he quirked an eyebrow up. It was a lovely sight watching the flush, once again, spread up her slender throat and bring color to her cheeks. He wondered if it spread downward as well and his eyes dipped again, keenly enjoying the view. He wouldn't mind finding out, especially with the pretty way she sucked in her lower lip and bit it showing a trace of glistening teeth. In fact, he would like nothing more than to take over that activity for her. Then the way she was looking at him uncertainly from under those dark, thick lashes was killing him, no, everything about her was killing him. Just as he decided he was going to cross the room, take her up in his arms and suck on those lips, she started speaking with a smile so counterfeit it made him frown to see her wear it. It was everything she wasn't, fake, plastic, and dishonest.

Meryl decided she was done looking, acting, and talking like an idiot, it was time to leave this place so with false brightness she said, "Well, it has been... er, interesting to spend time like this again... (Like this? She _was_ an idiot!) and seeing..." How long had she spent with him anyway? Abruptly faking a glance down at her watch, "Oh look at the time... I'm sure there's someone I'd rather, I mean... oh great... somewhere I'd rather be, oh, not that this hasn't been fun...but, uh people are counting on me." Aware that she had failed miserably at the whole 'down play the idiot look' she tried for a professional smile this time and it felt just as heavy on her lips as the last one did.

Vash scowled. He would rather see a frown, laugh, cry, scream, or her throw a tantrum, actually any show of authentic emotion would do rather than this artificial persona that wasn't her at all. He watched the way her shadowed eyes shifted trying to study the doorknob. "_Probably__trying__to__see__if__there__was__a__key__in__the__keyhole_," he wryly thought. Taking a small step to the side, Meryl kept her back facing the wall while keeping her eyes on him and the contrived smile firmly in place.

Eyebrows twitched up as he stared at her as she took step to the side with what was an obvious attempt at nonchalance. Now what was the silly insurance girl up to?

After she took a few more steps, it occurred to him that she was trying, unobtrusively to make her way to the door. This was her attempt at an escape? His eyebrows lifted higher.

Meryl blinked her eyes and jumped in place with a surprised gasp upon finding an outstretched arm in front of her chest blocking the path to the door. He had disappeared and reappeared in the time it took to blink! Again! Her gaze followed the arm to the palm splayed flat against the wall. Meryl was puzzled, annoyed, and slightly alarmed. Keeping a tight rein on her eroding composure, she repeated to herself, _he__'__s__a__Plant,__Meryl,__have__you__forgotten__so__easily?__Faster__and__stronger__than__humans__or__haven__'__t__you__read__your__own__reports__on__the__subject?_

She turned to go back the other way, ducking her head to avoid his gaze but just as swiftly the other arm slammed up blocking that route also. Meryl studied the arm for a heartbeat. Not a whisper of skin was coming into contact between them but she was feeling thoroughly trapped within the cage of his arms. Maybe he wouldn't notice (ha!) if she tried to go under. It was worth a try. Just when she was about to put into operation a quick break-and-run action, he bent his arms at the elbow and leaned in until his chest was scant inches from hers and effectively penned her in from all sides.

Deciding to go on the offensive, Meryl tilted her head up to yell at him but before she had a chance to he caught her off-guard instead. Swooping down he launched an attack of his own on her neck.

Convulsing Meryl let out a sound somewhere between a squeal and a shriek as his lips worked on the sensitive skin of her throat. Within seconds she was squirming, giggling and trying to breathe all at the same time.

Finally, she managed to yelp out around the laughter, "Not there! Not there!"

Between giggling spasms she snorted; (and wasn't that just ever so lady-like?) "That tickles! You are a very bad…AGGGGG, that... TICKLES you horrible man!"

Meryl loathed giggling for she did not consider herself the giggling type of girl and despised it when circumstances caused one to rise out her. Now though, a torrent of snickers, chuckles, snorts and giggles were gushing out while she fought valiantly to stop those wicked lips from sucking, his teeth from nipping, and good gravy was he even using his tongue?

A fresh round of giggling seized her even as Meryl vigorously strained to sound commanding, although it came out as a feeble: "You stop... this... instant!" before she collapsed in his arms weak from laughter. The small female allowed him hold her up since nothing could be done about it anyway. She didn't even notice when he pinned her, flush up against the wall, his hard chest against hers.

At this moment Meryl flashed back to when he'd pinned her in the confessional. This was _not_ the same man. Whatever it was that had made her heart pound in terror before was gone now. All that was left was this rising feeling of...what was it? She was weak with it. But it didn't feel _bad_, rather, she _liked_ it. _Why__do__I__like__it?_

For his part, Vash smiled internally, pleased with the reaction, who knew she was so ticklish? He didn't, but it was fun finding out. With a little more effort he was sure he could get her to stop thinking like an insurance agent. If he kept this up, Vash knew the tickling would soon change to another sensation, he could feel it even now. Something was rising within her wanting to respond to him in the way he suspected that she wanted. He was sure the insurance girl role was fighting a losing battle over the fact that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Leaving a trail of light kisses across the sensitive, silky skin of her neck and throat, Vash worked his way up and over to an especially tender spot behind her ear that soon had her jerking in spasms against him. He stopped short, feeling a wave of glorious heat rush through his veins. Lowering his hands to her hips Vash pulled her even closer so that she was flush up against him and began to redouble his efforts on the satiny softness of her throat.

Try as she might Meryl could not break his hold. When his hands dropped from the wall she thought it was an opening to dash to the side, but no such luck. His large, powerful hands clamped around her tiny waist and the slid down to the flare of her hips and drew her in. His grip was so strong she couldn't move that part of her body at all. And good night, was he using his tongue again! She jerked trying to throw herself backward only to find out that she was already against the wall.

Meryl giggled but the laughing was giving way to another sensation altogether, one arising from her belly with a warmth that was spreading throughout her entire being leaving her head spinning and the breath to catch in her throat. A delicious, dizzying heat was starting low and traveling up until she felt she was about to be consumed by an inner flame. With a heart pounding a quick beat in her chest she realized she was getting in too deep in; what was for her, uncharted territory.

Vash lifted his head from the delicious velvet skin in the crook of Meryl's neck leaving off the nibbling he had been intent on, to stare down into eyes that were crinkled in laughter. However, he was gratified to see something flashing bright like molten silver was starting to glow. Velvety cheeks were flushed, and the uncombed hair was wild and loose about her face. He sucked in a breath. She was gorgeous and enticingly desirable. He wanted nothing more than to keep on going with what he was doing until they both ended up in his bed. Damn, he gritted his teeth in frustration, cursing the fact they were where they were instead of in a room with a bed.

Heated eyes watched as she slowly regained her breath when taking him by surprise, the little female closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against his chest, willingly, making his heart do an unscheduled flip. He stared down at her with unbelieving eyes. This was unexpected. She was letting him hold her, and tightly he might add, not only that, she was practically snuggling into his embrace. She was, warm, curvy and soft in his arms, but Vash knew if he tried to move to that last step, she wouldn't go there willingly, at least not yet. This would have to be a time… and yes, he could admit it and would do it, woo her and with great care.

This was the truth, Meryl Strife wasn't one of his one-night stands, no, instead, she was forever embedded in his soul and heart. Looking down at the top of her jet-black hair he let out a soft sigh that stirred the feathery black locks there. He wanted her as a one-night stand _every__single__blessed_ night for the rest of her life. As he continued to gaze he heard a soft, contented sigh rise from her and knew right then that she would be worth the effort. This one he wanted for his "forevermore" and he wanted, no, the Plant _**needed**_ her to come to him willingly.

_Finally!_Meryl thought with relief and then I_wish__I__knew__where__his__tickle__spot__was.__I__would__show__**him**__the__meaning__of__ '__no__mercy__'__!_

Thinking the strange bout of playtime was over, she tried to take a step away but his unbreakable hold on her hips was still very much in place. Now that she wasn't giggling her fool head off, Meryl was acutely aware of his touch and in such an intimate fashion too! She pulled her head off his chest with a strange reluctance, it was so warm and firmly muscular, and perplexingly, she had felt safe there even uncertainly warred within her. He is _evil...right?_ _Evil,__remember__Meryl,__a__very__naughty,__immoral,__bad,__bad__man._ _Oh__toma__turds,_ _I__'__m__not__into__bad__boys,__am__I?__What__'__s__going__on?_

She tilted her head back to look up to see the lopsided smirk. With widening eyes she felt his grip slide a couple of inches lower and toward the back, then a give her a firm but gentle squeeze.

"Hey!" She protested as she tried to push his arms back. Instead he tightened his hold and once again her cheek was lying against his broad chest. A part of her, (traitorous part! she seethed at it) wanted to stay put, but with stiff resolution she pushed away, well, she attempted to anyway. Trying to quell the rising panic she tried to maintain a calm she wasn't feeling. It didn't help that the conflict was getting worse and the fact of the matter was that she was quite powerless to free herself. Then it dawned on her what could possibly happen from this point on and calm immediately flew out the only window. Struggling and twisting she tried to slip out of his embrace but she felt the rumble of his masculine chuckle under her ear.

How dare he laugh at her! Now she was angry! Pulling a leg back she aimed for where she thought a shin would be. It was a wild strike that only struck empty air. She would have fallen but for the hold he had on her.

"Where did you learn to fight, an all-girl's school?"

"Never you _mind_ where I went to school!" Huffed Meryl stiff with injured pride, as she tried to pull back to hit him.

He merely moved his arms around her shoulder blades and tightened. The air whooshed out of her before he relaxed his hold so she could breathe without difficulty. She knew it for what it was: a gentle warning.

With a few pants, she leaned her head against the broad expanse of his muscled chest, one of the scars rough where it ran under her cheek. Not able to help herself, she tentatively reached up a finger and traced the outer edge of the scar tissue that ran under her cheek and upward to his shoulder. It was a surprise to her when he trembled slightly in reaction to her touch.

"You can't seem to decide on what it is that you want." He murmured huskily into the delicate shell of her ear. "Not that I mind of course."

Wounded dignity in shreds because she knew he was right, she stiffened in anger. If he just would shift his position just a little bit, she would show him what she had learned in an all-girl's school! Yet, she was so weary and at the moment all she wanted to do was rest. She was winded, tired, sweaty and more importantly, she had been giggling! She, Meryl Stryfe, giggling! It was humiliating. _I__am__so__glad__no__one__from__my__home__town__was__here__to__witness__this...__hey..._her thoughts jumped track to another subject all together, _he__smells__good...__no__rather__enticing...__what__is__it,__gunpowder?__No__not__that._ That being a common scent she would easily recognize, but it was something more along the lines of a mixture of spicy tang from sun and wind on his skin, and then something much more primal, like leather... she took another experimental sniff. Her hands were still wrapped around his biceps, which for the first time she noticed were hard as rock. Her eyes sprang open. She was experiencing that warm, tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach again and she was overwhelmed with the desire to run her hands up his arms to his shoulders and down the expanse of his chest. _This__is__bad._ Meryl tensed, her muscles tightened, reacting to the escalating anxiety within her.

Vash felt her body go rigid and knew it was time to release her, when an idea occurred to him. Loosening his grip enough so she could take a step back, he looked down at her startled eyes and flushed cheeks. Everything in him wanted to bend down and claim those soft pearlescent lips...

"Meryl." She started at the sound of his voice saying her name, "I'm not finding a good enough reason to let you go..."

At her panic-stricken face one corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but he went on, "The first kiss I stole from you. However, if you willingly give me a kiss I will let you out of this room. Deal?" He didn't have to elaborate for both knew what he was capable of. And, still, no need to tell her the door was unlocked, especially if thinking otherwise gave him what he wanted.

"Now?"

He nodded.

"On the lips?"

He nodded again, eyes crinkling in amusement.

Her own were narrowed in suspicion as she persisted, "You'll get us out immediately _after_the _kiss_, right? No other funny business?" Meryl was having a hard time keeping in mind that Vash the Stampede was one devious Plant.

"Have you ever had any legal training?" He teased pleasantly, although gazing at those lips which were tantalizingly close was getting harder and harder to ignore especially since they were practically beckoning to him to taste deeply from them.

Meryl dropped her head in thought, cutting off the sight of those luscious lips from his view. It was probably a good thing.

She didn't ask what would happen if she said no. What the insurance agent part of her wanted was to be on the other side of the door with a minimum of fuss and bother. Meryl was well aware that it would be a simple thing for him to deal with a closed, locked door and iff this is what it took then she would do it. Meryl had never been kissed before. Well, not until that night in the alley that is, and really did being grabbed liked she had been and kissed with such intensity it still made her flush, did that count? Her shoulders slumped, why would he want to kiss her anyway? She wasn't pretty...

A quiet whisper spoke in her ear, and then his breath sent shivers down her spine along with, "You are beautiful."

Meryl tilted her head back to meet his eyes. They were a red but rimmed with a flowing blue around the pupil. At the sight of them she quailed a bit, they were so intense and bright as if lit with a luminous inner flame. Gathering the remnants of what was left of her shredded dignity she assented with a quick nod. So help her if even one smirk crossed his lips she was going to slap his face into kingdom come!

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes against the much-suspected smirk, Meryl waited and then heard that familiar rumbling chuckle once again. This was getting old! Her eyes flew open and with a frown she pinned him with a glare and hissed out, "What? Why are you laughing?"

"No, my sweet," Meryl's stomach did a delicious flip, "the deal is that you must kiss me. I am not going take one more from you," he grinned, eyes glinting, "even as much fun as that that sounds."

The handsome face become serious as he dropped his hands, releasing her totally before taking a step back away from her.

"Whaaa?" Placing one hand on a hip and lifting a pointing finger Meryl opened her mouth to argue but then the wording of the promise came back to her, the wording she had agreed to. Straightening her shoulders she blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair wondering if this was going to be worth it. However, it was too late, she had already agreed to the deal.

"Okay then, lean down." She started to go up on her tiptoes but stopped when she saw Vash shaking his head.

"For the sake of all that's holy,_**what**__**now**_?" she exclaimed throwing her hands up in vexation.

With an answering impish grin he stated, "You must come up here. I never said I would make this easy for you just because you are vertically challenged."

She punched his arm, winced and shook out her hand; that had hurt! At the sound of his mocking snort Meryl punched him again, which only had the same consequence.

"I'd stop doing that if I were you."

Through one squinting eye she debated on whether she should try for the growing smirk on his face before or after the kiss. Instead Meryl turned in place, eyes on a hunt for something to stand on. The chairs in the room would place her too high and then she would have to bend over. In an effort to avoid a crick in the neck she would need something shorter. No book was thick enough and if she were to stack enough on top of each other in order to reach his lips one of them would surely slide out when she went to stand on top of it. That's when her eyes fell on a footstool sitting under one of the chairs where the matching bright floral pattern was muted by the dirt and grime of gathering decades.

Going over, the diminutive agent squatted down and dragged the stool from beneath the chair and started to lift it. Her eyes flew open wide as it pulled her back down. So unexpected was the recoil she nearly went somersaulting over the stool to the other side. Halfway there she threw out a hand and caught herself by catching hold of the chair. Meryl congratulated herself on the save, it wouldn't do to go head over heels in front of him like that. He already thought she was clumsy.

At the sound of his rolling laughter she scowled at the offending piece of furniture and exerted more effort to pick it up. It was much heavier than it looked, made out of some dense, hard wood. Meryl fumed at the fortune that had her locked in some sooty, dusty barn-like structure where she was struggling with a stool. Fantastic thought Meryl darkly. I_t__'__s__made__out__of__real__wood__from__old__Earth,__how__lucky__am__I?_

She took a step with her burden and then stopped to stare. The door was not but a step or two away from her. She could toss the footstool at Vash and run. Then coming to her senses realizing that if she could barely even lift the stool, what made her think she was going to be able to heave it across the room at him? How about just dropping it and making her escape out the door? It was a tempting thought but she also knew that overconfidence was one of her serious shortcomings. And there was that fantastical display of speed of his, what if he did it again? Meryl doubted she was fast enough to beat him to the door even though it was nearby.

_Wait__a__minute__there__Stryfe!__You__just__made__a__promise__and__a__Stryfe__never__goes__back__on__their__word__once__it__'__s__been__given!__It__'__s__just__a__harmless__kiss,__just__do__it,__and__then__you__both__can__get__out._Yet something in the back of her mind was exulting and craving the intimate connection. It was hard to ignore it.

With new resolve Meryl straightened her spine and turned back to where he waited, in all of his white-haired and red-eyed masculine glory. She wondered what he was thinking. Rolling her eyes she decided it had to be along the lines of what an underdeveloped weakling she was.

Vash watched, admiring her tenacity and strength of character that wouldn't let her back out of her word once given. The gunslinger knew what she had been thinking; it was evident what by the play of emotions dancing across her face. It was a good thing she was in the insurance business; she would have made a lousy spy. The thought of her as a spy almost made him laugh but he stifled it before she saw it. He could admit that he had a brief flash of doubt when her eyes turned toward the door and he had tensed, wondering what she would do, then wondered what _he_ would have done, especially when she found out the door was unlocked.

That the stool must have been heavy for it showed in the strain and the awkward way she carried it. When she was within distance she dropped it more than placed at his feet.

"There," she panted, "you big, lazy jerk!" With a huff Meryl stepped on top of the stool. It would have put their mouths on an equal level except that the cushion covering the stool sank under her weight eliciting a muttered curse under her breath.

With an exasperated sound Meryl stretched up on her toes and this time fought from tipping forward. In reaction she threw herself backward, spinning her arms until, overcompensating, she started falling back off the stool until Vash caught her arms and righted her. When once she was balanced and stable, he released his hold.

"Thanks," she muttered, knowing the acquiring of several nasty bruises had narrowly been averted.

"Can't have you backing out of your promise just because you're clumsy."

The petite beauty ignored the comment but seethed with eyes snapping, "I keep _my_word," she challenged. "We'll see if others in this room do too."

Vash merely met her glare with a quick lift of his eyebrows, a lazy shrug, and waited with his arms hanging loosely at his side, one knee slightly bent while he rested his weight on the other.

Once again Meryl stood on her toes but this time she was quick to place her hands on the tops of his shoulders to keep from falling. She didn't miss the twitch at the corner of his mouth but ignored it.

The eyes met and fastened onto each other's while the two opposing wills met and jousted for the upper hand.

"Sands take you!" muttered Meryl before closing in to alight lips gently in a feather-soft kiss on his as he eagerly responded to her touch. He had resolved to wait and let her initiate the kiss while he enjoyed the fruits of her labor, but such determination evaporated as soon as the first bare touch of her lip joined his. With a satisfied grunt he noted the perfect union of their lips as if they had been sculpted for one another. Meryl pulled back only a hair, in a teasing caress across his lips that surprised even her. A protesting growl was heard from deep within his throat as he pursued her and firmly caught and held them under his own. He couldn't wait for her to come back to him again, and he knew then, he would always want her.

An instant heat rose up her face and down through her abdomen and Meryl couldn't help but press back into the Plant, wanting more contact, falling into the kiss while molding her body to his steel hard one.

Just when she was lifting to pull back but before all contact was lost, two strong arms of steel encircled her waist, pulling her back and pinning her tight against him. First he began with little nips and then a quick swipe of the tip of his tongue over her lower lip before deepening the kiss until a heady wave of desire and need rose nearly consuming him. Then taking her mouth under his, bending her back as he pressed in from over her, he deepened the kiss even further feeling her own fiery desire responding to his. Soon he was kissing her back with an intensity and raw passion that left nothing to the imagination.

Vash noted that for a beginner she was certainly catching on fast. He wasn't about to let loose of her now that she was letting go of restraints, but he also knew she was as afraid as she was mesmerized by the new experience. Besides, he didn't just want her body to be his, not any more, he wanted all of her, every little bit of her, her thoughts, her affections, her emotions, he wanted to know and experience every aspect of her lively personality and passionate heart.

However, under the stirring of a suddenly revealed passionate nature, Meryl was growing alarmed at what was happening within her and between them and it was being communicated in her touch, her lips, and her hands, even in the beat of her heart.

Despite her mounting reservations it was a challenge for the gunman to harness and control the fire raging through him wanting to keep going until completing himself in her. Vash wasn't used to doing it but he managed to stop. Reluctantly he pulled back from those lips he wanted to tenderly and possessively keep on kissing for the rest of eternity.

Meryl came to herself like someone awakening from a dream. What was she doing? _That_was the kind of kiss he was talking about? It wasn't the kiss she had intended on giving. Here she was playing tongue wrestle with someone; and when she thought about it rationally it was something she barely knew anything about! What did she know from those times when she met him in his different disguises where, consistently in all of them, he was a seducing womanizer? She and Milly had been told he was Vash the Stamped, but then, no he wasn't, oh yes he was, repeatedly for so long now she didn't know who to believe about what.

Vash signed with regret and with extreme effort, lifted his lips away from hers. He caught a glimpse of amethyst eyes cloudy with emotions that totally and completely had him beguiled within seconds. As if he weren't before this! He was well-aware of his near-magical effect on women, and any time he began luring them in with one seductive charm after another it was an automatic given that they would be his for the night. And, unknown to her, here he was neatly caught up in her own charms that she was unaware of.

Meryl was trying to back away but he couldn't quite bring himself to release her, at least not yet, in a minute he would, in the meantime, with her pressed up against him was a sensation too tantalizing to resist. Bending over her he nuzzled his nose into the top of her mussed hair, taking in the faint scent of white rose and honeysuckle.

A bare whisper rose up from her, "You can let go now."

For a brief moment he refused, enjoying the opportunity to just hold her. He was thoroughly shocked at himself. He was experiencing something he had never experienced before. The intense flare of sexual desire was giving place to a warm, peaceful feeling and the enjoyment of embracing her. It was with surprise that he noted he was happy to have her velvet cheek softly pressed up against his chest. In fact, he was content. For the first time in a very long time he was satisfied to just embrace a woman as he was doing now, but not just any woman, this one special one. He lowered his chin and placed it lightly on the top of her head. Yet, he could feel her growing anxieties with every second that passed.

"Meryl," he started hoarsely, again burying his nose into the thick sable mane of her hair, not even sure what he wanted to ask her.

"No! A promise is a promise!" Her voice was shaking and she was beginning to tremble. Meryl didn't know what he was going to say or ask her but suddenly she was seized with an unreasoning fear by whatever was going to come out of his mouth.

Utilizing more self-control than he thought possible, Vash took a step back. In a move that surprised her, he slid hands down to the curve of her tiny waist and gently lifted her off the stool to the floor. Keeping his hands there long enough to make sure she was steady on her feet, he gave a light squeeze before dropping them and stepping back away from touching distance of her.

"A promise is a promise," he whispered in a tone she couldn't identify.

Meryl looked at him but the gunman was ignoring her and staring off to a corner of the room.

_ Oh__dear,__now__he__must__think__I__am__some__kind__of__hussy__like__all__the__other__women__he__associates__with._Not letting the sting touch the surface of her eyes in the form of tears, she turned from him and marched for the door, back rigid and stiff. _Fine,__let__him__think__what__he__wants__to,__I__don__'__t__need__to__stay__here__and__take__any__more__of__this__abuse._Deep down inside an answering voice reminded her slyly that she had enjoyed herself, and even threw herself into it before being too overwhelmed. _Shut__up!__I__really__don__'__t__need__this._

Upon reaching the door she placed her hand on the doorknob thinking that it couldn't be so easy. It had to be locked all this time. Well, she wasn't going to spend any more time in the company of someone who thought she was no better than a floozy.

With attention on her churning resentful thoughts she almost missed it when the doorknob turned under her hand and the door swung open on squeaky hinges.

"Did you unlock that?"

"A promise is a promise," Vash replied cryptically.

Meryl didn't bother to look back. Instead, she cautiously poked her head out. "Main Street? We were _this_ close to the hotel and you couldn't have taken me back?" She turned around, her heart still beating heavily in her chest, but when her eyes focused on the room again, Vash was gone. "Vash?"

The room was empty as if no one had been there. "Sands take him, what just happened?" Confused, Meryl looked outside, and then back in again before a shiver rose on her spine and she sprinted back to the hotel. Milly was undoubtedly looking for her.

What she'd tell her tall friend, Meryl wasn't quite sure. The flush was still on her cheeks as she ran down the street.


End file.
